


Redactable

by baeconandeggs, non, Nullity



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Bisexual Character, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Side pairing involving main character(s), Slice of Life, Teacher-Student Relationship, side pairinngs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:44:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/non/pseuds/non, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nullity/pseuds/Nullity
Summary: The problem with letting Baekhyun sleep over was that somehow, Baekhyun would always find a way to make sure that he never left.





	Redactable

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** (BAE042)  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Author's Note:** I might've swayed from the strict guidelines of the prompt, I don't know. I hope that you'll like what I have to offer anyway dear prompter. Thank you for your prompt and thank you to the mods for being very understanding and all round lovely. My beta helped me a lot, thanks to you as well. It was great bouncing ideas off you!  
> This fic didn't want to be written, we fought plenty.

 

“What’s in the bag, kid?”

“Uh, books?” Chanyeol could see that, but that’s not what he was asking. What he wanted to know was why Baekhyun was toting around a bag filled with books when Chanyeol had agreed to tutor only one of his modules.

“And a, uh, change of clothes… but that’s just about it.” Chanyeol didn’t budge from the entrance, squaring his shoulders instead when Baekhyun tried to worm his way into the house. He sighed, reaching for the bag and unzipping it to inspect its contents.

“Why do you need a change of clothes, what exactly do you think is happening here?”

“Well, it’s already pretty late?” Chanyeol frowned, folding his arms in front of him and gesturing for Baekhyun to continue. “It’s going to be a hassle trying to get back to campus after midnight so I figured I’d just sleep over?”

All bullshit, of course. Chanyeol’s house was conveniently situated right along the shuttle route. Something he’d taken into consideration when deciding on suitable accommodation for his assistant lecturer position at the university.

“The last campus bound shuttle that passes through here stops at 1am.”

He knew what Baekhyun was doing. A part of him had known when he’d agreed to tutor the kid. Jongdae had warned him to be careful, but Chanyeol had gone and decided to give Baekhyun the benefit of the doubt.

Chanyeol sighed resignedly when it started to look like Baekhyun wasn’t going to back down. Jongdae had warned him, and he’d agreed anyway. Perhaps he deserved this.

The problem with letting Baekhyun sleepover was that somehow, Baekhyun would always find a way to make sure that he never left. It didn’t make sense because he had a perfectly good dorm room waiting for him on campus. There was a roommate too, and according to Baekhyun, the other kid spent most of his time holed up in the basement level of the library on the North Campus. Baekhyun practically had the entire room to himself to do with as he pleased but apparently it smelt stuffy and moldy and he missed home.

In a way, this was Jongdae’s fault too. If he hadn’t brought the kid over to games’ night at Chanyeol’s during Orientation week then perhaps Baekhyun wouldn’t be feeling so entitled to their collective personal spaces. It was just his luck that where Jongdae could easily put his foot down and threaten to report Baekhyun’s bratty behaviour to his sister, Chanyeol didn’t exactly know how to say no.

Perhaps one day he’d learn how to not let himself be bullied by bratty eighteen year olds, but it certainly wasn’t today.

“Fine, get in. But I’m telling Jongdae.” Chanyeol opened his door wider and stepped aside to let the kid in, feeling a little like his sanity was being taken away by the wind from the street.

Four thirty in the morning and his biological clock already had him up way before the time he strictly needed to be awake. There was a text from Jinri blinking on his phone, reminding him that it was a Friday morning, the second of the month and she was on her way over. Chanyeol groaned as he got up to stretch, remembering to open the windows before going down stairs to unlock the front door.

Jinri was a flight traffic controller who worked in the next town over. Chanyeol didn’t know what they were, didn’t think there was any need to identify and label whatever they were but every other weekend or so, they shared a bed. Jinri had a habit of driving out early to the university town Chanyeol lived, so she’d be able to share at least a few couple of hours with him in bed before he had to go to work. It was easy and convenient, but stagnant and perhaps that’s why neither of them ever thought to press for labels or white picket fences and a dog.

“ _Fucking_ _hell_. I thought— I heard a noise.”

Baekhyun was in the foyer, hands white where they were clutching onto a softball bat Chanyeol didn’t remember owning.

“It’s just me, as you can see,” Chanyeol yawned into his palm, his other hand testing to see whether the door was properly unlocked. Baekhyun looked a right mess, half naked in only his boxers and socks that came up to his calves, two slightly trembling hands holding tightly onto the bat.

“What are you doing with that?”

“This,” Baekhyun retorted, looking down at the softball bat he was now holding in one hand and shrugged. “Dunno, figured whoever was trying to get in would probably make a run for it if I made enough noise.”

He lifted the bat by the hilt and inspected it, casually throwing it into his other hand. Looking all tough and breezy, and not the apprehensive clumsy mess he’d been on his way down.

Chanyeol regarded him for a minute longer before turning towards the direction of the kitchen. Baekhyun trailed closely behind him, speaking with the sort of enthusiasm that Chanyeol’s brain couldn’t possibly hope to process so early in the morning without first having a glass of water.

He opened his refrigerator and retrieved a bottle, emptying its contents into a glass as he nodded and grunted while Baekhyun spoke. There was a reason the kid hadn’t returned upstairs to his bed, Chanyeol knew that, but it was only after there was a glass of water in his hand that it finally resonated. There was also a reason why Baekhyun kept coming back to his house. It was this; Chanyeol automatically checking his refrigerator for vegetables, half his mind trying to remember which of the side dishes that Baekhyun liked could be prepared within a reasonable time frame before Jinri got here.

Baekhyun liked attention. Which, fair enough, Chanyeol could relate. He supposed they got along so well because they somehow knew how to balance out this need in each other. Baekhyun also liked being taken of, liked it when everyone dotted on him and laughed at his jokes. And Chanyeol’s most regrettable mistake perhaps, was that unlike Minseok and Jongdae, he didn’t find any of Baekhyun’s jokes and pranks obnoxious. Baekhyun’s loud and, well… _extra_ personality wasn’t overwhelming in the least bit. If anything, the booming bass in Chanyeol’s voice always ensured that he laughed louder. And Chanyeol would go as far as saying that the kid’s pranks at Jongdae’s expense were _inspired_. Baekhyun was a good fourteen years his junior but somehow they just fit, it was the strangest thing.

 _Not strange at all, you’re practically a kid too. Of course you two would get along._ Argued the part of his brain that always spoke down at him in a voice that, suspiciously, always seemed to carry the same intonations and lilt as Jongdae’s. Chanyeol tried not to think too much about how he still felt as clueless and exasperated with life as he’d felt at eighteen. There were a lot of things he hadn’t gotten right in life at first try. So in a way, it still felt like he was just starting to figure out what being an adult was. Essentially, he was just starting out with his first real job at the university, fresh off of obtaining his qualification a mere twenty six months prior.

He was renting his first unshared accommodation and other than his first stint in the university, this was his first time out in the world. Alone, without his mother constantly looking over his shoulder at his every move. So many, way too many, firsts he really shouldn’t have been thinking about right now. Not when he already spent so much time and often his sleeping time, thinking over them, dissecting every single one and matching them up against his self-doubt and track record. The point was, it made sense that Baekhyun was here instead of, say, at Jongdae’s. Who, unlike Chanyeol, was actually related to the kid.

“You don’t look like you went out for a jog,” Baekhyun was saying. There was a brief moment of silence when Chanyeol handed him a plate and the kid promptly set about wolfing it down. A quiet and small smile tugged at his lips as he ate, a stark contrast to his usual loud and bright ones. Chanyeol found himself zoning in on it and getting lost there as his mind started to drift.

He poured himself another glass of water before dishing out the remaining food into two plates. Normally, he wouldn’t eat anything until much later into his day, but presently he found himself considering whether he should be eating now rather than later with Jinri. It was almost as if when he had people over, his body would suddenly remember that he was in fact a ‘breakfast and home cooked meals’ person.

Baekhyun had his moments. Sometimes he ate without any finesse to speak of, throwing everything from the table into his mouth until the moment his body would take matters into its own hands, and threaten to throw everything back up. And sometimes he ate like this, like this was the best meal he’d ever tasted in his young life. Like Chanyeol was possibly missing out and really, microwaved rice had nothing on fresh out of the cooker hot rice.

“No,”

“But you were outside? At 4:45 in the morning?”

“I’m usually up around this time anyway.” Chanyeol dismissed him with a casual wave of his hand when Baekhyun’s bottom lip started jutting out worriedly. “You’d probably get it if Mummy wasn’t forking out the bill for that lovely dorm room of yours.”

“Hey!” Chanyeol snorted, finding alternative use for his hands other than reaching over and ruffling Baekhyun’s bangs. The kid didn’t like that. “Nobody gets it, but campus accommodation really sucks. The food sucks and my roommate is never around. Probably too afraid he’ll catch the gay or something.” He took a spoonful of the fish dish to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I’m gonna move out of Res next year.”

“And what does your uncle have to say about that?”

“Jongdae is pissy about his space, I’m not gonna force it. Figured I’d just rent out a bachelor apartment somewhere close to campus or something.” Chanyeol nodded appropriately, even though he wasn’t quite in agreement. When he’d been in university, he’d never applied for on-campus accommodation so he didn’t really know anything about that. And while off campus accommodation didn’t come with unnecessary house rules, gender seclusion or the subtle systematic prejudice against anything considered ‘Other’, Chanyeol worried.

Off campus accommodation wasn’t exactly a quick fix-all, but Chanyeol supposed it would be better than living in a dorm where people could, officially, lodge a complaint with Residence management about being housed with sexual minorities and actually be heard. Baekhyun didn’t like talking too much about that whole mess from two months ago, but it was such bullshit. If Jongdae hadn’t told him to just let it be, Chanyeol would’ve very much liked to take it up with university’s ethics committee.

“You hate living alone,” Chanyeol quietly reminded him. Baekhyun was looking absently at his plate, languidly moving his food around. There was something there, but Chanyeol didn’t think he was the right person to push.

“I hate it so much,” he agreed and chuckled, suddenly perking right back up. It was a little jarring.

“Just so you know, I almost ate your house.” They both turned their heads towards the door where Jinri stood, slightly leaning against the frame. She looked beautiful and exhausted, smiling wide and full cheeked, and Chanyeol felt himself warming up under its fixed attention. “Yo,” he said and grinned, “I made food.”

Jinri glided over, promptly sitting herself sideways into his lap and squeezing into him tightly. “Did you know that your house looks like a fairy-tale from the outside? Icy white walls and the gingerbread roof? Please tell me you made extra because night shift’s kind of a bitch. My hormones are _fucking_ all over the place.” There was a small and quiet suggestion in there, something he almost grabbed and ran with, except the distant sound of a throat being cleared kept him grounded. For a very brief moment, the fact that he had a guest had completely slipped Chanyeol’s mind. Jinri was kind of compelling like that.

“This is Baekhyun. Jongdae’s nephew.”

“ _Ooh, the nephew,”_ she said in a playful tone of voice reserved for secrets and drama. Baekhyun laughed, taking her hand and suddenly exhibiting some of that infamous lady killer charm Jongdae always whined about, but Chanyeol had personally never seen. It was a revelation.

“Oh, come on. Don’t believe anything they tell you about me, I’m lovely. You’ll see.”

“Well, you have a lovely face.” Baekhyun winked at her and Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, arms tightening around Jinri as he lifted them both up onto his feet.

“That’s it, we’re going upstairs, now.”

“Put me down, caveman, I’m hungry and Baekhyun’s nice.” Chanyeol snickered to himself thinking about a hundred comebacks (come-ons? Definitely come-ons) filled with innuendo he could give her, but politely refrained out of propriety.

“Clean up, will you?” He said over his shoulder to Baekhyun, securing a squirmy and giggly Jinri in his arms before bounding for the stairs.

  
  
  
  
  
  
“How did you find the test, Sheree?” Chanyeol inquired as he collected the objective test scripts from his Tut kids. Sheree was a quiet one, the kind of quiet he felt like he always had to look out for. Often times there was a distant look in her eyes, something a lot of lecturers tended to dismiss as indifference. But Chanyeol didn’t think that was the case, so he was careful to approach it differently.

“Mm,” Sheree hummed, guarded simper curling her lips upwards as she shook her head in the negative. In the beginning, she’d used this hum and ignore tactic to discourage and distract, but Chanyeol was nothing if not persistent. “I need to study harder and longer, I think.”

Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows and continued on to the next person, who already had their script stretched out for him to collect. “You know my office hours right?”

Sheree nodded and stared down at her notebook, worrying her bottom lip. “Pay me a visit sometime, so we can re-strategize together. Cool?”

“Cool… sure,” she agreed in a small voice, exchanging a hesitant simper for one of Chanyeol’s biggest grins.

“Mark,” Chanyeol inquired, aligning the scripts properly as he made his way back to the tutors’ desk in the front of the class.

“Aced it, my dude.” Chanyeol grinned happily, already sorting through the practise question slides he’d prepared for this session. His little tutlings murmured to each other vibrantly, apparently the Objective Test they’d just taken had been fair. It was something Chanyeol liked to see. “Don’t stop coming for office hours just because you’ve got this one in the bag though, alright?”

  
“Okay, so, Identifying contracts with customers,” Chanyeol started, grinning wildly when his tutlings started to whine and moan. All in all, life was pretty great.

“A lot of theory on how to identify the performance obligations is going to be in test 2 by the way. So trust me, you _want_ me to go through this with you.”

Most of his department had cleared out. He didn’t have any office hours on a Friday but Chanyeol liked to stick around, get a bit of work done before weekend fever completely, officially took him over. It was also just some of his favourite things. South Campus on a Friday afternoon was as quiet as a cemetary. It was good for his process. Perfect to get through a few admin issues he might’ve neglected during the week and sometimes, he could even fit in an hour or so for his own personal projects.

He was about to really start getting into the grit of it, when a low whistle startled him. Chanyeol was curious enough to save his work before following the sound of it out into the foyer.

“I didn’t know tertiary educational institutions still made use of the ‘Name and shame’ board.” He found Jinri in front of the department’s bulletin board, reading through the marks of the postgrad stream’s most recent test. “A bit brutal and outdated, don’t you think?”

“Only the top twenty names are shown, it’s not that bad,” he defended.

“Yeah, but, I’m sure even the smart ones wish the university would respect their right to privacy a little?” Chanyeol frowned, considering it. He supposed she had a point, but the bulletin board was a proven motivational tool. Every student wanted to see their name printed on there at least once in their educational career, right? Because otherwise you’d only ever just be a student number. At least that’s how Chanyeol saw it.

“You’re good to go? Came to pick you up like I promised.” Jinri smiled at him, moving to stand close enough to be within kissing distance but refraining from initiating any form of intimate contact. Chanyeol didn’t know why he was thinking this, now specifically, but he appreciated it. Public displays of affection didn’t make him feel uncomfortable but he was just… he had a complicated relationship with that sort of thing. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome, but there was always a sense of relief that came with not having to deal with any of it. In any case, Chanyeol didn’t think he’d very much like to get into a situation where he’d be forced to explain who Jinri was, should one of his colleagues see them.

“I still have a bit of work I was hoping to get done before games’ night,” Chanyeol groaned, leading Jinri back to his office. Upon reaching the threshold, he opened the door wide for her, smiling genially and making sure to leave the door slightly ajar behind him, like he always preferred.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping I’d get you to work on rearranging my gut before the guys come over tonight.”

“Okay, see… when you put it like that.”

“I’m just saying.” Jinri simpered, swaying her hips dangerously as she moved around the office inspecting the digital art pieces that hung on the walls. A good three quarters of them had been there when he’d moved in, but he wasn’t about to tell her that when she was being so generous with her compliments.

Jinri was beautiful, he quietly thought to himself. It was almost frustrating, especially when his heart thudded quietly, callously reminding him that, that might’ve been the case, but his heart wasn’t in the least moved.

She was perfect enough that his mom would love her, more pertinently, she was kind of a freak, his dick kind of loved her too. Even now, it was stirring just at the smell of her being within close proximity. But did his heart care? No. And he’d tried, he wasn’t exactly counting because this was nothing, but he’d known her for as long as Jongdae had been dating Sunyoung. Which was halfway close to an eternity. And once, when they’d been younger and perhaps less jaded about everything in life, Chanyeol had honestly thought that there could be something there. Well, his dick, mostly, but his 21 year old brain didn’t know what a critical thought process looked like or what self reflexivity was. He wasn’t young anymore though, and neither was Jinri.

“How’re the little tutlings doing? Are they going to complete their degrees, d’you think?” He was too grown to be letting his bottom lip hang out like this, but Chanyeol was just so really passionate about his tutlings. They made him feel so much, good and sad, his body was nearly not big enough to contain all that feeling. So sometimes, yes, when someone showed interest for something he deeply cared about like this, his bottom lip would stick out inappropriately. “I need them all to pass and make it into the postgrad programme. I’ve made it clear that I’m not accepting anything less.”

“Even the quiet ones?”

“We’re getting there. I’ll get there.”

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

That made him stop working. Jinri was now sitting in the chair across from him, quietly tapping one of her heels to the floor, eyes not quite meeting his.

“We’ve been through so much together, haven’t we?”

“We’ve known each other for a really long time,” Chanyeol agreed, eyes flitting to his document quickly and locating the save icon on the screen. He chose to forego properly shutting down his laptop in favour of looking at Jinri’s face. There was something there, he couldn't quite place it but he knew her well and long enough to tell.

“I watched you make a lot of mistakes, some of them directly affected me and broke me. But we worked it all out somehow. You worked yourself out _somehow_ , even when it didn’t look like there was going to be any future worth looking forward to there, but god Yeol, you did it. I’m proud of you.” She met eyes with his and smiled, nothing like her usual manner but hopeful in any case. “I’m proud of us.”

“You’re never sappy, are you breaking up with me?” Chanyeol teased, dramatically clutching onto his sweatshirt, above his sternum.

He slotted the laptop into his satchel and quickly made his way around the table to give her a warm hug. Jinri squirmed out of it, softly beating at his chest and cussing out.

“We’re not even together, you ass.”

When Jinri hooked one of her pinkies to his on their way to the staff parking lot, Chanyeol didn’t even flinch.

“Were you two fucking or what, my nose almost fell off waiting.”

They found Baekhyun sitting on the hood of Jinri’s car, too scantily dressed for the weather outside. It was easy enough for Chanyeol to unlace the scarf he had around his neck and wrap it around Baekhyun’s instead, paying particular attention to the loop he made over his nose as the kid grumbled under thickening layers of wool. It was totally worth it because Jinri was suddenly back to her old self, laughing animatedly as Baekhyun fought with the woolen scarf, batting away Chanyeol’s hands.

“What’re you doing with her? Didn’t you have tuts and lectures today?” Chanyeol didn’t know why he had about a good half of Baekhyun’s timetable memorized, but he supposed it was useful information that Jongdae wouldn’t hesitate to dole out great favours in exchange for.

"Just one tut, I’ll make up for it on Monday.”

“You can’t keep missing school you know, it all adds up. If you want to sit for all your exams at the end of the semester then you have to stop doing this.” The kid sighed resignedly, looking thoroughly chastised but also like he was well aware of the fact that he was fucking up. Chanyeol had to drag Jinri to his side in order to avoid reaching out and ruffling the kid’s hair or squeezing his shoulder tight, which was frankly, a little patronizing.

“I know, I’m working on it. I just feel so…” Baekhyun sighed and Chanyeol didn’t press. “I’ll work on it.”

“Ookay, who’s ready to go splurge on some alcohol but not on my credit card? Woop woop,” Jinri yelled a moment later, wriggling her way out from underneath Chanyeol’s arm and walking around to get to the driver’s side.

As much as he loved to claim that games night was always at his place because he was the only one among his group of friends with a house big enough for the kind of debauchery that games night always brought along with it, it simply wasn’t the case. Games night was always at his place because Chanyeol had never learnt how to say no to his friends when they asked him to cook on the pretext that drinking on an empty stomach was a luxury that grown bodies like theirs couldn’t afford to indulge in. Grown bodies like theirs were well on their collective way to walking around missing a good chunk of useful liver, Chanyeol would tell them but what did he know.

“Too much chase, not enough gin,” Jongdae complained, handing his drink back to Sunyoung. Chanyeol was relieved to note that she wasn’t working night shift at the hospital today. Jongdae tended to be a difficult drunk and Minseok, quite un-usefully, very pliable and indulgent. Sunyoung usually knew how to deal with Jongdae and Chanyeol quite enjoyed the shade of red Minseok’s face would turn into whenever Sunyoung teased him about being her boyfriend’s wife.

“Did you know that gin and tonic is a lesbian staple.” Chanyeol liked Sunyoung’s presence, generally, because she was always the life of the party, her personality, otherwise, was deceptively pure and agreeable.

“Stop teasing me,” Jongdae whined as the whole room burst out laughing. Sunyoung passed him his drink, looking quite pleased with herself. “I’d never tease you baby, I’m just saying. Personally, I don’t see the problem, I love that you’re so pretty. My pretty little butch wife.” Jongdae whined some more as she kissed all over his face, but soon enough he was kissing back and pinning her in place with a strong grip Sunyoung particularly liked. Drunk or not, Sunyoung was very, terribly vocal.

“Here,” Baekhyun said, coming to squeeze himself in between Chanyeol and Jinri on the couch. In his one hand, he had a glass of red wine, the cheap shit you buy in a box. For some reason, Jinri continued to be the biggest box wine supporter since their university days even though it always gave her the worst headaches. “What’re you even doing,” Chanyeol asked him, shifting to the right to give Baekhyun some space. Baekhyun squiggled his bum on the couch, his hands gripping both Chanyeol and Jinri’s knees on either side for support.

“You’re a sweetheart,” Jinri praised after gulping down a generous sip. They were both ignoring Chanyeol for some reason.

Well, okay, it wasn’t exactly surprising seeing that Chanyeol had lost them their last three games. The other team was wiping the floor with their asses, but considering the fact that as a rule, Jongdae, Sunyoung and Minseok were always freakishly in sync, this shouldn’t have been a problem. The way he saw it, his team just needed someone to shoulder all of the blame.

"Fine, I’m gonna be in the kitchen if you all decide you need me or I don’t know, need me to feed you,” he grumbled, lifting himself off the couch and heading for the kitchen.

Cooking was almost cathartic when he did it with a lot of people in mind, but surprisingly depressing when he was cooking just for himself ahead of a working week. Chanyeol liked to plan meals based on what his friends liked, though his preferred rustic style of cooking always bled out whatever the meal. There was something intensely satisfying about seeing people happy and lazy, sprawled out across his living room and knowing he’d given them that. Sometimes it was enough to make him briefly flirt with the idea of quitting everything and enrolling in culinary school instead. It was just a thought, his mother would probably hate him then, but it wasn’t hurting anyone for now.

“I wanna taste too,” Jinri yelled from across the other end of the room. “It’s just cream spinach,” Chanyeol explained, but Jinri shook her head cutely as she made her way over, insisting. For some reason, she was a really adorable drunk, always making it so that Chanyeol always paid attention to her, taking care of her.

She headbutted him in the arm softly, eyeing the kitchen counter wistfully and letting her bottom lip jut out. “I wanna taste too,” came Baekhyun’s voice from behind them. Chanyeol chuckled softly as he lowered himself a little, wrapping his arms around her thighs and lifting her up onto the counter. “It’s just cream spinach, what’s with you two?”

He would claim to be surprised, but honestly Chanyeol had seen enough of the way Jinri’s madness gelled well with Baekhyun’s that he wasn’t even surprised when the younger came around and butted his head softly against Chanyeol’s arm too. Chanyeol rolled his eyes and ignored Jinri’s enthusiastic cheers as he repeated his earlier motions, setting Baekhyun’s wiry frame right next to Jinri on the counter.

“Now feed us,” Baekhyun demanded, successfully activating Jinri into singing along to the same tune. It was kind of ridiculous, but that’s what he got for being the sober one in a house filled with drunks.

“Yuck,” Jinri spat, promptly washing her mouth out with some of her wine. “Yuck,” Baekhyun agreed, reaching for Jinri’s wine and managing to pull both glass and manicured hand to his mouth. It sent Jinri in a giggling fit that ended with an abrupt hiccup.

“Rude,” Chanyeol complained, threatening to serve twice as much the amount of vegetables into their plates as everyone else. His threats were all harmless of course, because even when he always made sure to serve as little as morally acceptable amount of vegetables into Baekhyun’s plate, the kid had a nasty habit of chucking it all into his anyway.

“Hold this, I need to pee.”

Baekhyun promptly took a sip from the glass of wine, laughing and swaying precariously close to the stovetop in his effort to get away from Jinri. Jinri whined as she lunged threateningly, trying to get her wine back.

“Make sure he doesn’t finish my wine,” she ordered before sprinting off, her bladder apparently too full to humour Baekhyun’s antics.

To Chanyeol’s surprise, Baekhyun wasn’t hard to handle at all. He was drunk, he could clearly see that, but for the most past, the kid just quietly observed as Chanyeol set about finishing up. He was contemplating something, deeply and very intensely from where he was perched on top of the counter, feet swaying at a beat. Chanyeol wondered what that was all about, but for the sake of peace and perhaps his own sanity, he decided not to poke or prod.

“Give me a hand with some of these,” Chanyeol instructed, having finished plating everything up. It wasn’t in the least aesthetically pleasing to the eye, because even in the way he plated everything, Chanyeol was rustic through and through. He preferred for the flavours to speak for themselves mostly. That and also, by the time he’d be done cooking, Chanyeol would feel so very done with everything that he’d just throw it all together on a plate to get it over with. “How about you get me down first and I’ll help?”

Baekhyun sounded weird and when Chanyeol turned to level him with a sizing up glare, the kid had a mischievous smirk pulling at the edges of his face. “Stop messing around and come help me with these.”

“I guess I’m just gonna stay up here ‘til you’re done serving everyone then,” Baekhyun groused, lifting his nose up in the air and not meeting Chanyeol’s gaze. He really should stop hosting games night, no one seemed to appreciate the work he put into this enough and dealing with lazy drunks was mildly upsetting.

Chanyeol heaved out a resigned sigh as he made his way over to Baekhyun, securing his arms around the kid’s waist. Baekhyun laced his hands around Chanyeol’s neck and held on tightly, letting go a beat too late after Chanyeol had already set him down. “Now, get these for me will you?” Chanyeol instructed, already reaching for a second plate and setting it further up on his forearm.

A couple of hours after everyone had eaten and some more drinking games had been played, only Minseok and Baekhyun remained out on the balcony with him. There was no telling whether Minseok was just being exceptionally contemplative this evening or that he’d already clocked out. It was a little hard to tell given the angle but his friend had been worryingly quiet and motionless for a little while now.

Baekhyun was possibly louder than his usual self, except he wasn’t making as much jokes as Chanyeol for some reason. He kept trying to remove this or that piece of clothing though, which worried Chanyeol very much. It was almost enough to have him pasting himself next to the kid and swooping in whenever he claimed it was too hot. It was a chilly cloudless night, warmer than the previous nights certainly but not entirely enough for any of them to be hanging out on the balcony without a jacket on.

“Let me go for a second,” Baekhyun told him, tone suddenly very serious. Chanyeol only held on to him tighter, pulling the kid into his side. “Chanyeol, I’m gonna throw up in your neck if you don’t let me go right now.”

That apparently did it.

Chanyeol let go of his shoulder, jumping as far back as he could without falling over the balustrade. He frowned as Baekhyun retched into a potted cactus he’d adopted a couple of months prior at the height of what everyone around him called ‘pet fever’. Once in a while, Chanyeol would want a pet so badly that if he didn’t already have something or someone to take care of, the need would burn him up until he had no choice but to brave his allergies. For what it was worth, Jimmy had been such a lovely, well mannered pet.

After Baekhyun was done throwing up about half of his guts, Chanyeol handed him some water, making disgusted faces as the kid gurgled and spat out. This was okay, as long as nobody retched on his expensive white leather couch, they could all drink however much they liked for however long they liked. Including Baekhyun, who had not so long ago turned eighteen and moved in-land for his first year of university.

Chanyeol had been Jongdae’s friend for about half of the kid’s entire life. He’d been there to see him without most of his front teeth, to Baekhyun coping exceptionally well with puberty and the resultant attention (not unwanted, but perhaps a little difficult to navigate) he got from the girls.

Fourteen years after his and Jongdae’s first year in university, Chanyeol was still here to see Baekhyun become a regular weekend alcoholic, just like the rest of them. It was really okay.

“Feeling better?”

“Heeeh,” Baekhyun answered, grinning wildly as he swayed back to his place beside Chanyeol. With the way he was going, he’d probably have ended up bleeding gray matter onto the pavement below if Chanyeol didn’t reach an arm out to steady him. It wasn’t meant to be complicated, Chanyeol was just supposed to stretch out his arm and pull Baekhyun in just so. Baekhyun would probably wobble a little on his feet but Chanyeol’s arm would’ve been steady enough to keep him in place. Except Baekhyun came barrelling straight into his mouth, tongue first, arms clutching languidly at Chanyeol’s jacket pockets.

“Woah, the fuck?” Chanyeol heard Minseok shout incredulously from behind them, finally giving his brain the kick it needed to start reacting.

“You were puking your guts out on Jimmy a couple of seconds ago, and now... _why_!”

Chanyeol pushed the kid away, and swiftly reached for a spare bottle of water. Minseok cackled viciously from somewhere in his immediate background as Chanyeol aggressively washed out his mouth.

The kid’s tongue had tasted a little sharp and sweet, maybe a little textured as it tickled his palate. Just thinking about that peculiar combination of tastes had him gagging and on his knees, sobbing dry as Minseok moved towards him to laugh and clap happily right in his ear.

“Why me, oh god? I pay my taxes on time, why,” he cried out towards the clear starless sky and only got Baekhyun’s ‘he he he he’s and Minseok’s sinister glee in return.

“I think it’s trying to communicate,” Jongdae whispered harshly from where he was standing next to the bed. “Did you just let him drink everything until he passed out, what the hell you guys?” Chanyeol couldn’t be too sure, but Jongdae sounded an awful lot like he was accusing, specifically, Chanyeol.

Minseok was standing on the other side of the bed, looking down at Baekhyun almost too fondly, which alone was suspicious enough. It kind of threw Chanyeol off, that the other man hadn’t mentioned last night’s tragedy since the rest of the house, save for Baekhyun, had woken up an hour ago.

Baekhyun grumbled out something that sounded like actual words but not in any language either of them understood as he made to sit up in the bed. After prodding his diluted-throw-up soaked tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth and having a general great time laughing it off with Minseok last night, Baekhyun had passed out. The only way Chanyeol had gotten Minseok to stop laughing in his face about it was by making him carry Baekhyun to this room. Overall, it was still pretty suspicious that Minseok hadn’t even flashed him an evil ‘I remember everything about last night in technicolor’ grin.

“What time did you go to bed?” Sunyoung inquired around a wide yawn. Last night she had frog marched Jongdae to the guest room across the foyer downstairs, the moment it had suddenly occurred to her that he must’ve been sneaking in more drinks and shots when she wasn’t looking. The rest of them had promptly transferred their drinking activities to the balcony to spare themselves the devastating noises that would’ve been sure to follow.

There was a reason why the couple wasn’t allowed to take up the other room upstairs whenever they slept over at Chanyeol’s.

“Headache. Loud. Too loud. Get out.”

Chanyeol moved up from his claimed space by the foot of the bed, opening up the bottle of water in his hands and squeezing it into Baekhyun’s outstretched hand. He looked very distressed, bodily, mentally and emotionally when they made eye contact. Chanyeol would’ve asked, but Minseok beat him to it by swiftly descending into a fit of laughter.

“Is it me or all of a sudden these two can’t look into each other’s eyes?” Sunyoung came to stand next to Jongdae, nudging him with a sharp edged elbow and smiling remorselessly as he complained. “This one’s colour is just about drained from his face,” she observed, pointing at Chanyeol who was starting to feel like he was going to be sick. His tongue was, quite uselessly, suddenly remembering peculiar tastes, feeling the phantom warmth of a short lived tingling sensation curling along his palate. Were tongues even meant to have detailed memories?

“And this one’s ears are red.... 500 bucks says Baekhyun did some stupid shit at Chanyeol’s expense,” Sunyoung continued, allowing herself to be smothered by a very clingy cape in the form of a very human Jongdae.

“800 says Chanyeol accidentally flashed his dick and the kid’s been traumatized since,” Jongdae countered.

“What?” Chanyeol spat out, incredulous and for some reason he wasn’t willing to examine right this minute, flustered. “I did not!”

To the side, Minseok flopped onto the bed, reduced to a mess of vibrating shoulders, face weirdly screwed. His mouth hung open, but no sound was coming out. He had tears streaming down his cheeks. And honestly, Chanyeol didn’t think it was _that_ funny.

“I think Minseok knows something and he’s holding out on us, babe.” Sunyoung nodded in agreement, beginning to stalk towards Minseok threateningly, but also like, cute? It was weird how she could do that, duality? Old magic, perhaps?

It took a little over two minutes to get him to calm down, another to make him sit up straight, avoiding Baekhyun’s petulant scowl that only made him laugh some more and another minute yet to get Minseok to stop wheezing. “Baekhyun threw up on Jimmy,” he began, earning himself two confused hums. A head poked through the door, and only Chanyeol noticed. A beat later, Baekhyun as well, his face swiftly rearranging itself into a frantic mess as his eyes pleadingly shot to Jinri at the door and then back to Minseok.

Distracted by Jinri’s suggestive smile, Chanyeol made his way towards the door.

“And as an apology, he stuck his tongue down Chanyeol’s throat.” He paused for effect, watching gleefully as Sunyoung’s face contorted into disgust and Jongdae’s, confusion at first, realisation then misplaced rage. “Chanyeol kissed puke soaked tongue!”

A lot of things seemed to happen at once. Jongdae advancing at him with a confused little frown of his eyebrows. Baekhyun flopping under the covers and making a dying sound before going deathly still. Jinri’s lips moving a little further out of reach and turning down into a frown before opening up to laugh into his face.

They ordered lunch from the mexican place in the next suburb over, because Chanyeol only made food for one, ignoring everyone for the rest of the day. And for supper, they almost had him agreeing to fix up something, but then he caught Minseok randomly wheezing again, shoulders stiff and vibrating as he hid himself behind Chanyeol’s couch.

They were all drinking this evening and Chanyeol was on his way to check if they still had enough alcohol to carry them through for the rest of the night when he heard two soft voices coming from general direction of the patio. It wasn’t as though he was hiding, but the architecture of the house coupled with the positioning of the furniture made it so that he couldn’t be seen from the outside. From his vantage point, he could see Baekhyun’s entire side profile, while Jinri’s face was in full view.

The moon suddenly dipped behind an onslaught of clouds, darker shadows bringing Baekhyun’s features into focus.

“Is he actually apologizing for kissing you?” Minseok’s voice came from somewhere below his left shoulder. “For the last time, we didn’t kiss. It didn’t even last for five seconds and he was dr—”

“Does he know that you and Jinri are not together _together_?”

“It never came up” Chanyeol shrugged, his eyes intent on Baekhyun and the flush of colour blooming on his cheeks. He was looking down, mostly, fighting his way through the words of apology he thought he owed Jinri, apparently.

“He’s being a little too weird about this.” Chanyeol nodded in agreement, the scene looked entirely too painful to watch.

“But it’s a little sweet. Not a lot of people would apologize after messing around with your person.” On that too, Chanyeol agreed. He was starting to feel a little funny, probably from the leftover mexican from lunchtime that he’d gone and microwaved out of spite about an hour ago. It burned a little uncomfortably inside his stomach, and as though it had suddenly grown wings, the feeling swarmed up to his chest, heating everything up there too. “He really is, isn’t he?”

“Were you two eavesdropping just now?”

Their effort to scramble and try and look casual tanked, splendidly. Jinri looked scandalized and perhaps a little protective, because her arm was now reaching for Baekhyun, pulling him close into her side. Baekhyun looked a little flustered, eyes on everything and everyone except Chanyeol. “I think the gesture was sweet, a little misplaced perhaps, but very sweet,” Minseok calmly provided and Chanyeol could only sigh, beginning to walk away.

“If any of you wants to help with the alcohol, I could use a hand.”

Chanyeol didn’t move, still trying to process whatever all this was. Baekhyun in his bed. Baekhyun moaning out his name, eyelashes fluttering with a delicate flourish as he closed his eyes. Panting. Writhing. _Baekhyun_ underneath him.

He was wearing Chanyeol’s crisp white shirt, which seemed longer than he remembered it. It covered most of his thighs, coming close to his knees in a way that almost seemed modest, playing right into that virgin-hoe complex Chanyeol always claimed he loathed but fuck if this wasn’t stirring something demanding inside him.

His head was jolted enough that everything seemed to be coming at him in beats, staccato and minimalist like a memory repressed. His hands moved without any of his command, fingers digging into the hard muscle of Baekhyun’s thighs slowly but not hesitantly. There was a warm rush of blood from his head down to his gut, where something swarmed and swooped before he felt the blood going straight for his dick.

When he looked down, he saw that he was naked. He didn’t remember when exactly that had happened, everything up until this point was sort of a dazed blur. It didn’t even make sense that Baekhyun was arching his back and flushing a pretty irate pink as he moaned out Chanyeol’s name in between breathless pleas, but here they were anyway.

This was happening.

“Do something. Why aren’t you doing anything?” Baekhyun looked a little exasperated as he lifted onto his elbows, worming his thighs around Chanyeol and pulling him down. Chanyeol fell straight into his mouth and stayed there long enough to forget when his hands and body had moved to position himself where Baekhyun moaned out for him the best. At the back of his mind there was a constant buzzing noise, something that seemed to tip this moment off its axis. Something a little off kilter and overly unpleasant that it was only too easy to repress it and lose himself in the warmth and softness of Baekhyun instead.

“I’m your first,” Chanyeol heard himself say, to which Baekhyun replied with a drawn out groan, nails sinking into his arms and scraping sharp unbroken lines all the way down to Chanyeol’s forearms.

He carefully tipped them over, rearranging Baekhyun above him without once detaching. There was something addicting about the way Baekhyun’s face contorted as his thighs tried to close in an effort to somehow reduce the added pressure of their current positioning. He watched in satisfaction for several moments as all Baekhyun did was moan and draw his trembling thighs so close together that his knees almost touched. Even though he hated to admit it, there was something completely satisfying about knowing that Chanyeol was the first person to make him feel all this, the first person to see Baekhyun like this.

Being someone’s first was never something he’d ever obsessed over, quite the contrary in fact. Chanyeol always thought he respected his right to good sex enough to not want to waste it on anyone inexperienced. But this, knowing that he was the first to breach Baekhyun’s walls. Chanyeol’s skin, fingers and the rest of him, the first to which those walls would mould and learn to relax around. Him. There was something compelling there, something that made his toes curl and his eyes roll to the back of his head even though there wasn’t nearly enough friction or movement between them to warrant any of that.

This, whatever this situation was, was addicting. Chanyeol needed and even though he had it already, it wasn’t nearly enough. He needed more, there had to be more. It got him thinking that maybe he’d like to see just how much of himself he could imprint on Baekhyun’s technique, mind and skin alike. Because after this, Baekhyun had to need him and only him. Even if he were to be with someone else, Baekhyun’s hips would still move the way that Chanyeol had taught, the way Chanyeol liked.

“I need you to get nice and comfortable and then when you’re ready, move for me.” Baekhyun’s thighs trembled where they were squeezed together, the white shirt riding up just enough to make Chanyeol wish he could remove it. Something was decidedly off about this moment and all the other several past moments of this there had been. Chanyeol didn’t remember why he couldn’t just reach up his arms and get rid of the shirt himself but now that he was thinking of it, his arms were becoming stiff and immobile at his sides.

In any case, this was nice too, seeing Baekhyun’s frame drowning in one of Chanyeol’s shirts like this. The contrast of it against his flushed skin. It was nice, intoxicating, and had him halfway close to delirious. But why were his hands not listening to him when he needed it the most?

“I need you to find yourself,” he told Baekhyun, deciding to rest the back of his head on the fold of his arms if they were going to insist on being useless. Baekhyun looked at him and simpered, lowering himself tentatively to hide his face against Chanyeol’s chest. “I thought the point of all this was for you to teach me, uh, _stuff_.”

“Yup, go ahead.” Chanyeol nudged his head forward to direct Baekhyun’s eyes to where they were connected. “Learn what you like. It’s gonna be up for you for as long as you like.”

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whined, his voice distant and gravelly. Chanyeol felt himself being rolled over and groaned unhappily.

“ _Chanyeol_ , I’m hungry.”

"Go away,”

“Your refrigerator is empty. The rest of the guys said to come to you,” Baekhyun grumbled, voice a little closer than it had been a moment ago.

There was a sudden disorienting jolt that came with the trauma of waking up to realise that you’re, well, _you_ and not all the other alternate selves your subconscious conjures up out of thin air and sells to you in the form of dreams. On this particular morning, the trauma of waking up to realise that he’d been dreaming about his friend’s nephew in less than savoury contexts, was...well, it was exceptionally debilitating.

When Chanyeol opened his eyes, Baekhyun was standing at the side of his bed, grinning at him like the little shit he remembered the kid to be and not whatever that Baekhyun he’d been dreaming about was. Vaguely, he noted that Jinri was in the adjoining bathroom, the sound of an open shower pitter pattering through a visible crack in the door. There was something fundamentally _not right_ about dreaming of your friend’s eighteen year old nephew in the same bed in which not so long ago, Chanyeol had been gut deep, slick and intoxicated, fucking Jinri with all the strength and motor skills a drunk body could possess.

“What,” he asked groggily, reaching for his head that was pounding almost vindictively. He blinked hard and rapidly to clear it of all the unnecessary images from his dream it was only too happy to provide.

Baekhyun was wearing one of Chanyeol’s old white t-shirts, baggy and stretchy in the most unflattering of ways, over a pair of his own boxers. He looked unexplainably joyous about absolutely nothing so early in the morning, his smile so bright and wide the rest of his face was almost crammed out of the picture.

“Feed me.” Baekhyun grinned evilly, suddenly deciding that waking Chanyeol up wasn’t enough, he had to pull at the duvet and sheets too. It got awkward really fast, because suddenly Chanyeol’s morning wood was being pleasantly greeted with confusing real life spin-offs of dream version Baekhyun. There was nothing of that coquettish reach and pull down of Chanyeol’s shirt that had been a recurring feature of his dream, even though there was really no need to cover anything when Chanyeol was already seated so deep and sturdy inside of dreamscape Baekhyun. There was none of the unbridled sexual curiosity or need in this Baekhyun’s eyes or body language, and frankly, it was a little more traumatising for his dick than it had been for his mind.

“Woops,” Baekhyun giggled nervously, suddenly scrambling for the door. “I’ll let Jinri know that you need that taken care of, but please hurry or I’ll start dining on your couch with a fork and knife.”

The threat, though juvenile and near harmless, sobered him up right away. His mother paid good money for that couch. Chanyeol was kind-of-sort-of in love with his couch; it was a damn good couch. Sometimes he’d forego his own bed for that couch. It was comfortable, exceedingly, long with plush white real leather and looked just about as expensive as the price tag that had been on it when his mother sent the couch with the rest of his things over when he’d initially moved here. It was a damn good couch, on all accounts.

“It’s too early for any of this but I’ll fight you if that’s what you want,” Chanyeol shouted after him, screwing his face in confusion when Baekhyun squealed as he ran past the ensuite bathroom screaming about Chanyeol’s dick for Jinri to catch.

Chanyeol kicked his legs in the air and jumped off the bed, stalking after Baekhyun into the hallway. Before he could reach the door, Jinri appeared by the entrance to the bathroom, dripping wet and skin flushed, looking at him inquiringly. Her eyes dragged down the entire length of his body, coming to a slow park at his very much naked groin region, eyebrows lifting upwards pointedly. His dick kind-of-sort-of did a weird little jump towards her general direction and Chanyeol’s feet, begrudgingly, followed it to her like it was some kind of sexual dowsing rod.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yixing poked his head into his office, eyebrows furrowing adorably as his eyes located Chanyeol and then quickly darted behind him once more. “Was that Sheree I saw coming from your office just now?”

“Yep,” Chanyeol confirmed, slowly removing his hands from the frame on the wall he’d just been adjusting, “Office hours,” rapping twice at the notice on his door that had his office hours printed in bold font.

Yixing’s eyebrows remained furrowed, looking as though he was considering something, intensely. He had a habit of doing that, which was kind of endearing when it shouldn’t have been. Chanyeol never seemed to know if he was taking his time to code switch from his Mandarin thoughts to spoken Korean or if he was just being deeply contemplative.

“That’s weird. She never comes to mine.”

“She needs persistent and consistent encouragement,” Chanyeol told him, sitting back in his chair and making a few corrections to the lecture slide he was redrafting. “Mm, can’t say I’ve been consistent. I’ll try that.”

Yixing set his bag down on one of the chairs on the opposite end of the desk, retrieving his notebook and setting it up on the space Chanyeol was clearing. They worked in silence for a while. Chanyeol always thought they worked so well together that there were times he’d briefly consider the possibility of having joint office hours. It was smart and probably way ahead of their time because Yixing belonged to a different College altogether. It would surely come with a whole list of interesting admin hurdles and hours. Chanyeol thought he probably had enough of those already.

“Decided on your plans for winter vac yet?”Chanyeol didn’t have any. He’d briefly toyed with the idea of going back to the coast for a little while. But there was an unnecessary itch that going back home always brought. Even when it seemingly looked like he finally had his life on track, living inside his mother’s house always made him feel like he was still in his early twenties, fresh off of his latest fuck up. It was probably because of the way his mom looked at him, proud and almost relieved.

Something tense was always in the air, residual dust from the time when he didn’t have anything for her to be proud of or relieved for. When it stretched taut through the air, Chanyeol would always remember inconvenient truths. Like how unconditional love always seemed kinder and easier to dole out when things were sailing smoothly and the people you’re meant to give it to were achieving things or at least worth something.

The memory of his mother’s harsh words had a way of pitting itself against the ever present smiles and praise she always seemed to have for him these days. “I think I’m probably going to be around?”

“You should sign up for vac school then. I already did.”

“I don’t know, the idea of working on campus during vac doesn’t really… yeah, no. Figured I’d just catch up on a lot of sleep, work through some slides for the next semester here, get a bit of admin out of the way there. Full blown campus vac work? Strong no from me.”

Yixing bit his bottom lip and scrunched his face, fingers continuing to tap at his notebook. For as long as Chanyeol had been working at the university, Yixing always avoided situations that required spending a good chunk of his time at home. Mostly because there was never anyone to go back home to. “Have you seen what they’re offering? I mean, I haven’t checked your department, but mine’s compensating pretty nicely.”

“Isn’t it the same across the board? Like, university policy or something?”

“You’d be surprised,” Yixing snorted, saving his work with an exaggerated tap and then promptly putting away his notebook “Won’t you get bored though? Winter vac is pretty long…”

“I might go out and try discover the city or something? Haven’t really experienced it since I moved,” Chanyeol shrugged. He had plans to check out the music scene, perhaps go to one of those wine and poetry nights he never seemed to have energy for during a working week. With most of the students gone during vacation, the chances of running into one of his kids at something like that would be drastically reduced. He didn’t feel too hot about visiting the same haunts as people a good decade younger than him otherwise. Mostly it was because of the constant reminder of who he’d been at that age. Chanyeol didn’t find any of those memories a pleasant thing to contend with.

“Everyday? For a whole month and a half, that’s your entire plan?” There was a knock on the door and then a moment later, a fluffy head of hair was poking in, eyes scrunching upwards to make space for a bright smile on a ruddy face. Chanyeol felt heady, baring too much teeth as his lips parted and curled upwards like it was contagious thing.

“Oh hey, I know you,” Baekhyun greeted, closing the door behind him and coming to sit on the spare chair, sparkling eyes set on Yixing. Chanyeol briefly thought of getting up to re-open it like he preferred, but something distracted him, though he couldn’t say exactly what.

“I know you too, you stopped coming to class”

Baekhyun waved him off, pulling down the wrapper of the chocolate bar he’d retrieved from the front pocket of his bag. He took a large bite and chewed aggressively like it was an apple. “I dropped the module. Intro stats is too hard for me.”

“I thought the point of the tutoring sessions were to make things easier, you can’t just drop modules because they're too hard. You get help, I’m your help.” Baekhyun pulled the rest of the wrapper down and threw the last half of the chocolate bar into his mouth, looking a little too cool and unphased. He took his time to chew and swallow, which was awkward and uncomfortable for as long as it lasted. “That was way before that. I probably dropped it in the third week of opening or something?”

“How do you two know each other?” For some reason, Chanyeol’s memories decided then that it was the appropriate time to rehash some of his most unfortunate dreams. He could feel his ears starting to burn up, which only became worse when he made eye contact with Yixing, opening his mouth to say, “Uuh...”

He didn’t know how the two of them knew each other, he realised. Somewhere deep in his mind he probably knew the answer to that one, an easy, quick and appropriate answer but all that his mind was currently force feeding him were elaborate two second slides of dream version Baekhyun from multiple angles and in multiple filters, a pretty pink ever present on his cheeks.

“He went to university with my uncle. The whole family kind of adopted him since then.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol’s mouth sort of gurgled, “that.” Yixing shifted in his seat, looking deeply contemplative again but mostly confused. “Aah,” he said a while later, “Jongdae’s nephew!”

“Whatever he told you is a lie,” Baekhyun pre-emptively protested and Chanyeol just watched the entire exchange fold out before him, feeling a little like he was in a distant galaxy watching all of this through a fissure in the stars. Plus, Baekhyun’s face, his expressions as he spoke, the way he laughed out lazy and nasal, it was all a little too distracting. Almost like a very slow, very precise revelation come way before its time. It made Chanyeol jolt from his seat, pretending that he meant to start packing up when the others’ attention jerked towards him. “It’s getting late,” he explained, throwing things into his bag without really checking to see whether he needed them at home or not.

“It’s barely 6:00pm,” Yixing countered, but also made to stand, already putting away his notebook. “If you wanna try again next semester I’d be happy to have you, Baekhyun. My students rarely ever take advantage of the office hours, so I could help you go through some extra stuff then? Think about it and let me know.”

“It just seems like a very difficult module and I don’t really need it to graduate, so…”

Yixing laughed softly, easily placing a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. Yixing was generally touchy and feely, Chanyeol knew that, but the twist in his gut didn’t seem to know this. It wasn’t until Yixing was looking at him expectantly that he realised his body had gone stiff, his face a little too tight. “Huh?”

“Are you feeling okay,” Yixing asked, but the words didn’t carry the same cadence as before. Next to Yixing, Baekhyun was looking at him weirdly, which only made his ears burn up some more. Chanyeol slung his bag over one shoulder, distracting himself with his College of Accounting Sciences hoodie as he slowly put it on. He shot out an, “Of course I’m fine,” muffled by the fabric of the hoodie and made sure to smile wide when his head popped out.

“Ready?”

“Actually,” Baekhyun hesitated, shifting weight onto one hip and not meeting Chanyeol’s gaze for some weird reason. “I’m gonna be staying at the dorms for a little while. I was talking to Jongdae and he said some stuff… which kinda resonated? So, uh, yeah.”

“Ookay. So you came to my office to say hi then?”

“Oh, uh, I left a couple of things at your place that I needed to use. I was wondering if you could bring them with you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, a Tuesday,” Chanyeol deadpanned.

“In the morning, yes and thank you.”

“Well, did you need to use them in the morning tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you just get them in the evening when you come over?” Baekhyun’s face looked a little panicked for a moment, a tight smile clearing it out in the next. Chanyeol took out his snapback as they neared the parking lot and put it on his head. Often, he’d get mistaken for just a regular student because of his dress code. The university wasn’t too finicky about work attire, so most of the time, Chanyeol dressed in what made him feel the most comfortable. Baggy sweatshirts, hoodies and snapbacks when outdoors. “Oh, of course. I’ll do that.”

Yixing got into the car first, politely leaving them to finish talking and saying their goodbyes. Something in Chanyeol’s chest felt lighter at the gesture. Lighter at Baekhyun’s simper on him alone, though small.

“Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Baekhyun smiled, but didn’t say anything as he began to walk away. Chanyeol stood with his back leaned against his car for a while, watching him walk away and not knowing why. Baekhyun looked back once and startled at seeing him still standing there, watching. He laughed one of those surprised and uncomfortable little laughs of his, and Chanyeol’s mind filled in the blanks of what that would sound like, because Baekhyun was already out of hearing range.

He continued to stand there, looking a little confused because there was no reasonable explanation for why he was still here, looking towards the same direction even though Baekhyun had already dipped out of view where the landscape gradually eased into a decline. Once more, it was Yixing who jolted him back to reality by softly rapping on the window. “You’re sure you are okay?”

“Yeah I—” Chanyeol hunched his back and dipped his head as he climbed into the car. He fastened his seatbelt and started up the engine. “I’m fine,” he said, craning his head to look back as he smoothly reversed out of the parking lot. “More than fine, I’m… okay.”

Tuesday, the following evening, Chanyeol had a lot of work to get through. He stayed late in his office to finish it off.

A little past nine, there was a gentle rap at his door, and a moment later, Yixing walked in. “I saw your door was cracked open and the light was on?”

“I don’t think I'm getting this done today,” Chanyeol whined, reaching for his third bottle of water this evening. He took a long gulp and then promptly threw his left cheek on top of his desk, body slumping forward. “Did you need anything?”

“It’s pretty late,” Yixing shrugged. “Hey, I thought you had a tutoring session on Tuesday evenings with the kid?”

“ _Shoot,”_ Chanyeol cussed, jerking back up and turning his wrists to check for the time even though it was already bold and bright, flashing on the right corner of the bottom of the screen. “No, I completely forgot,” he cried, already starting to gather up his things. He made a quick dash for his door, where Yixing was still standing, opening it wide for him and smiling small in amusement.

“Thanks for the reminder, I’ll see you tom—” that was weird. There were no text messages from Baekhyun. No missed calls. No voice notes on whatsapp. Nothing. There was a bit of activity in the group chat with the rest of the squad, but nothing from Baekhyun. Chanyeol came to a hesitant stop, lifting eyes to meet Yixing’s. “I’m actually done for the evening,” Yixing casually reminded. They always carpooled together, but Chanyeol's brain was a mess right now.

Also, he had to stop making the other man ask him if he was doing fine so much.

"I’m good, it’s just… I didn’t get any messages from Baekhyun. It’s weird.”

“We could go around to his dorm and find out if he’s there? Maybe something came up.”

Chanyeol didn’t know Baekhyun’s dorm room number, so when they parked in front of the block of buildings that made up the entirety of north campus’ residence, they sat in silence as he dialed the kid’s number.

“Let’s give it five more minutes,” he reasoned fifteen minutes later. Yixing hummed, continuing to scroll down on his phone. Chanyeol shot Jongdae a worried text, just in case, and continued to dial Baekhyun’s number. It rang until it went to voicemail each time.

“Hey, you hear anything yet?”

“ _He’s fine. He went out with his roommate and some friends, apparently,”_ Jongdae rasped into the headset. That couldn’t be right. Baekhyun’s roommate was a bookworm and a homophobe. There was no way Baekhyun could’ve gone out with that same roommate, on a Tuesday night no less.

“Uh, okay?”

“ _Yeah. Did you guys fight or something? Why am I playing mediator?”_ Chanyeol also liked to know. It couldn’t have been about the kiss from that other Friday, they had that sorted three weeks ago. Even Jongdae was starting to joke about it repeatedly in their group chats, so it really couldn’t have been that.

“I saw him yesterday, we talked. He seemed fi—” The parting was a little weird. Baekhyun hadn’t looked completely fine, but perhaps Chanyeol was just projecting because it was him who didn’t feel fine. He was feeling all sorts of things. Dreaming all kinds of wild things over the past two weeks, repeatedly, involving Baekhyun. He wasn’t fine. “—fine. He was fine. He probably thought that I’d go easy on him with the tutorials or something and now he’s bunking, I guess? Listen, I’ll talk to you later, I have to drive Yixing home.” Chanyeol hung up without waiting to hear Jongdae’s thoughts on the matter. He put his phone away, trying not to grind his jaw down so hard as he reversed them out of residence parking.

“Everything’s fine, I’m fine,” he rushed out, before Yixing even thought to ask. Yixing looked at him and blinked in confusion, removing his right earphone. “What?”

“Nothing,” Chanyeol sighed. _Nothing_.

The next two sleepovers at Chanyeol’s, Baekhyun’s absence stuck out like a sore thumb. All of them awkwardly pretended that it wasn’t at all significant, mostly because Sunyoung was working night shift at the hospital and absent too. Other than Jongdae taking him to the side and asking what was up with the two of them, the pretend game mostly went well.

He made sure to attend the next tutorial sessions though, mostly after receiving a thorough talking to from Jongdae. Quite inexplicably, Baekhyun had decided to change the venue of those to Chanyeol’s office. Chanyeol chose not to question it, guessing that Jongdae somehow had some say in that too. Overall, things were going well. There was some sort of distance between them that hadn’t been there before, but Baekhyun was doing well.

His roommate, as it turned out, wasn’t actually a homophobe. Kyungsoo thought Baekhyun was pretty and he had a bit of a crush, which explained why he’d always made himself scarce from their shared dorm room before. There were still some kinks they had to work out, but hey, they were hanging out now. A lot. And sleeping in the same room. _Every night_ . Chanyeol should’ve been happy for the kid. Everything was fine.

And the more he repeated it to himself like a mantra, the easier it was to ignore the uncomfortable tightness inside his chest whenever Baekhyun quite inevitably ended up mentioning Kyungsoo during their tutorial sessions. Fine really… everything was fine.

Chanyeol had a sort of sixth sense about these sorts of things. Sometimes he’d wake up from a dream about a friend he hadn’t seen in a while and the next thing he knew, he’d find himself meeting eyes with a familiar face at a red light. Just last month he’d woken up feeling something weird he couldn’t place and then his ex-boyfriend from his screw-up days sent him a friend request on Facebook a couple of hours later. This morning he woke up feeling like there was a huge chasm somewhere deep in his gut. So when Jinri’s contact flashed on his phone, he took his time, staring the phone down until it went silent again. He would deal with whatever it was at the end of the evening, but for now Chanyeol had some work to get through.

He should’ve expected it would be hard to concentrate just like that, but Chanyeol had hoped.

After realising he was still working on the same slide he’d opened over half an hour ago, Chanyeol decided it was time for a break. The school of Maths was somewhere in the middle of South campus but not too far from his own block of buildings.

Chanyeol passed by a vending machine on his way down and decided to get Yixing a coffee and some hot chocolate for himself. There must’ve been some society hosting a screening in the Auditorium there judging by the amount of people loitering about the area and the noise coming from that general direction. Chanyeol wouldn’t normally pay attention to that sort of thing, except he could’ve sworn he’d seen Baekhyun making his way out of the auditorium.

He looked again and Baekhyun was right in front of him, back turned to Chanyeol as he spoke to one of the girls set up on a table by the entrance to the auditorium. He couldn’t tell from this angle but the girl looked a lot like she was at the receiving end of some pretty aggressive flirting. It was weird, because Chanyeol’s feet were suddenly redirecting him towards Baekhyun instead of out of the building and in the general direction of the School of Maths.

Before he could get to him however, Baekhyun started walking away, leaving a visibly flustered sweet little girl patting at her cheeks and rearranging the fliers and pizza boxes she had at the table. Baekhyun walked at a leisurely pace, carefreely biting into the slice of pizza he’d recently procured.

There was something about observing a person when they weren’t aware they were being observed. It briefly crossed his mind that he should be feeling weird about this. There wasn’t anything particularly pertinent he needed to say to the kid, but here he was, following him around the building like he didn’t have anything else better to do with his time. All he knew was that Baekhyun was right in front of him, and everything inside Chanyeol itched to reach out and say hi… or something.

“You need to fucking stop doing that,” Baekhyun gasped, pulling at the chord of his earphones with his free hand, the one holding his half eaten slice of pizza clutched close to his chest. Chanyeol started laughing. There was a tightening in Chanyeol’s chest, accompanied by a trickling warmth that almost felt a little unbearable.

“You’re always on the wrong campus whenever I see you.”

“The anime society has a screening thing going on,” Baekhyun explained, nudging his head in the direction they’d both come from. “I’m treating myself for being such a model student and attending all my lectures and tuts for the week. You should be happy for me.”

“Should I?” Chanyeol nudged the cup of hot chocolate in his hands towards Baekhyun. The kid was a little hesitant, but he looked like he needed it. Chanyeol briefly considered removing his hoodie and making him wear it. For some largely frustrating reason, Baekhyun never dressed appropriately for the weather.

“I’m hardly getting any sleep these days and my skin is a hive of breakouts,” Baekhyun whined, pouting indecently.

“You’ll live,” Chanyeol huffed out, resolutely pulling his eyes away from Baekhyun’s lips. There were so many cluttered thoughts in his mind threatening to unpack themselves right this minute. And it hardly looked like the appropriate time nor place. Chanyeol took a few steps back, suddenly remembering where he’d been headed in the first place. “And your face is fine, just… fine. You should come by my place sometime. It’s too quiet without you.”

Baekhyun’s lips gaped like he wanted to say something, eyeing Chanyeol curiously as he continued to walk himself backwards in the direction on the auditorium. “Thanks for the hot chocolate,” Baekhyun yelled and turned to walk away, shaking his head minutely. Chanyeol stood in place for a little while, watching Baekhyun’s back until the corners of the building hid him out of sight.

“That’s not how it works...” Yixing was saying, rubbing his forehead lethargically, looking like a troubled old man.

“...why don’t you ask your mother in that case? It’s _her_ boyfriend,” he argued softly. Chanyeol took the seat on the opposite end of the desk from Yixing and smiled, passing him his drink. Yixing smiled back, mouthing a thank you and returning to his call. It was a little hard not to laugh as Yixing protested to whatever his son was proposing. This side of him rarely ever showed, but when it did, it was always a great experience.

Yixing didn’t talk about his family much, mostly because he was divorced and his son lived with his mother. From what little information he could glean out, Yixing and his ex-wife had been highschool sweethearts. His son was a materialistic fourteen year old little brat, but in the best and most funniest of ways. He was also far too grown for his age. Between Yixing and his wife, the son had been the most mature one among them while tackling the divorce.

“I raised a little shit. I don’t understand, I’m such a nice person,” Yixing complained as he put away the phone. He looked so much older than he was like this. Any time now, Chanyeol expected he’d be seeing a few gray hairs starting to sprout from the man’s scalp. “He wants money,” Chanyeol prompted, snort-laughing into his cup at the offended look on Yixing’s face.

“He wants me to wire him some money so he can buy his mom’s new boyfriend a gift.”

“Yikes,” Chanyeol shot out, pulling his lips into a slight frown. “They seem to be getting along well, I see how it can be… concerning.”

“Oh, I’m concerned about my bank account alright. Listen, it doesn’t even make sense, his mom earns way more than me. And this new dude, is apparently rich. He doesn't make money, he just _has_ money. And a mine or two somewhere in Africa...” Chanyeol gave a low whistle. He had what you could say a bit of experience in that area since his own mother had been a divorcee. He'd hated all of his mother’s boyfriends of course but Yixing’s kid was smart. His strategy was sheer genius; win the new dude over and eat his money. Chanyeol was kind of in awe. “Wow,” he said instead, for cameraderie’s sake.

Yixing nodded his head pitifully, graciously accepting the implied sympathy.

  
  
  
  
  
“Finally,” Jinri yelled exasperatedly into the phone. Chanyeol made sure he was done going through most of his bedtime routine before returning her missed calls, unable to put it off any longer.

“I was busy,” he lied, and Jinri snorted incredulously into the phone.

“I’m just gonna get straight into it since I know you already know what’s coming.” Chanyeol groaned into the headset, scrubbing his face with his free hand. He fidgeted in bed trying to find a comfortable position, put the phone on loud speaker and threw it onto the pillow beside his head when he had it. “Alright, hit me.”

“So there’s this guy at work—”

“This is weird. I feel weird,” Chanyeol cut in. They weren’t together, they didn’t feel anything for each other. Not in _that_ way. But he was starting to feel a deep sorrow curling darkly into his chest and squeezing everything together too tightly.

“I know… I’ve been feeling very sorry to you for a while now. It’s a little silly because we’re not even together.” Jinri sighed. It was almost like she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. He didn’t feel crushed. It didn’t feel like he had an open and bleeding sore somewhere inside him, but he still felt a deep sense of loss.

“We had some pretty great sex together though,” he whined, to which Jinri laughed. It made him feel light again. And somewhere in all of this, there was this weird sense of relief. Too many confusing emotions a grown man should know how to deal with better, but he supposed there wasn’t ever really an age or muster for this sort of thing. Feelings were kind of wild and unreasonable like that.

“The best,” she agreed and then went quiet. They stayed like that for a little while, Chanyeol’s mind not surprisingly, already starting to go over a few things he wanted to touch on with Baekhyun the following evening.

“You still there?”

“Yeah,” he groaned.

“Sometimes it’s the things that are right in front of you. And sometimes we have to cut off people from our lives who refuse to get it.”

“You’re being very cryptic right now and my brain clocked out when I left campus,” he complained, turning over in bed when his current position was no longer comfortable.

“It’s _always_ the thing that’s staring you right in the face, I need you to think about it okay? And no one’s happiness matters in this world more than your own. You’re too old to be living for other people.”

“You just broke up with me for your new man, why are we talking about my mother?”

Jinri chuckled softly through the headset and went quiet, thinking through the words she wanted to say. “I want to see you happy again, truly happy and none of that fake shit you’re doing right now. Do that for me okay? Do it for yourself, you’ve paid back enough already.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol choked out. His heart hurt now. Too many memories flooding his mind. Too many compromises made and things given up along the way.

“Okay. I’ll be… happy.”

He forgot the clicker in his office, so for the rest of the two blocks of lectures he had to deliver, Chanyeol had to be extra creative. There was a lot of jumping involved and he only fell once. His kids laughed happily and seemed to be in the mood for asking questions, and Chanyeol counted it as a win. Some of the front row kids were starting to look a little flustered though and Chanyeol guessed he might’ve unknowingly shown a bit of skin. It was a difficult position to be in, from an ethical point of view.

Chanyeol was one of the youngest lecture staff in his department and on their campus, generally. It probably didn’t help matters that his face was easy to the eye or that his personality made him a little popular with the students. But for the most part, he tried to distance himself from any sort of behaviour that could be misconstrued as a come-on or encouragement.

“Alright, enough of that. Can I get some more questions or are we all ready for midterms?” His students collectively groaned, the lecture hall suddenly sounding like a hive with all of the chattering he’d invited. Chanyeol returned to his desk and opened his bag. “I’m not above dirty tricks, just so you know. If you can tell me something about the chapters covered in your midterms then…” he waved the bag of sweets he’d bought from the service station kiosk that morning, grinning happily at the rowdy response that it got him.

“And just so we’re clear, I’m not really great at throwing things, so, give me a fact at your own risk.”

A bunch of hands almost immediately shot up into the air, and Chanyeol bounced on his feet, a little too excited. And because he never half assed his lessons, he went all the way up the stairs until he was at the top most row of students, picking hands and throwing a treat in exchange. Sometimes a few interesting answers came from the right most column, and he’d find himself having to run down the stairs or jumping on top of the desks and stepping on the empty spaces his students would make for him as he passed through like it was some kind of obstacle course. It kept them activated and excited to answer his questions, which in turn made him a very happy man.

He was jumping from one row of desks to another in the middle column on his way down to the projector, when he almost fell because he thought he’d seen Baekhyun. He did a double take and furrowed his brows, taking in the snorted giggle and hands fumbling to pull the brim of a ball cap down over flustered eyes. All around him, there was a loud chorus of worried little gasps and ‘Oh my god’s’ that followed his near fall. Some of the girls seated in the row in which he’d almost toppled over were worriedly urging him to just get down already and use the stairs instead. And even though he assured them that he was fine, they still seemed a little antsy as he took the stairs, two at a time on his way down.

Chanyeol ended up having to roll up the sleeves of his baggy sweatshirt to convince them all that he was, “... fine, look… didn’t even bruise.”

For the rest of the lecture, he stayed in the front of the class, and tried to throw the sweets as best and as far as he could.

There was also another reason for staying in the front of the class and that was because from this vantage point he could fix his eyes on one spot. And even though Baekhyun kept his eyes hidden behind the brim of the ball cap, Chanyeol was still aware of him being there. He hadn’t hallucinated him. The kid was really here, passing time in one of Chanyeol’s lectures.

For a very brief moment, he flirted with the idea of calling out his name and forcing Baekhyun to participate like the rest of the class. But that was a little unfair considering this was a second year lecture. And perhaps, it would give away a few things he wasn’t really keen on giving away to a crowd this huge and excitable.

So, Chanyeol stayed in the front of the lecture hall and didn’t call Baekhyun’s name, but he made sure that his eyes would naturally come back every now and again to linger in that same spot. Taking in the sight of Baekhyun’s small frame drowned in one of Chanyeol’s older _School of Accounting Sciences_ hoodies in full view right in front of him.

Feeling a little spontaneous, Chanyeol yelled from his desk, “Right, spot test,” and a lot of significant things seemed to tumble in right after this moment but, this, at the very core of it, this is how it started.

Chanyeol didn’t remember how they got from Baekhyun whining about the spot test to asking about Kyungsoo, but somehow it ended with Chanyeol showing the kid a selfie that Jinri had sent a minute prior. She was smiling goofily into the camera with her new man. Her real man. Chanyeol thought he’d never seen her this happy and carefree since their university days. Probably.

“She’s really pretty,” Baekhyun breathed out softly. “And such a great person to hang out with.”

Chanyeol lifted his eyes from the phone and smiled because he could relate.

“I just don’t get it,” Baekhyun continued, starting to sound a little frustrated. “Why would you let _that_ go?”

“Dude,” Chanyeol began and then started laughing because Baekhyun's face was suddenly too serious. He couldn’t tell for sure, but the kid looked a little upset. It was kind of hilariously cute, in a certain light.

“It’s not funny, stop it. Were you shitty to her or something? What did you do?” And then quieter, “Was it Yixing?”

“Yixing? Why would he have anything to do with this?” Baekhyun looked at him blankly, blinking rapidly.

“I didn’t let her go. We weren’t even together, _together_.”

“But Yixing,” the kid insisted, quietly. And then he froze, abruptly, eyes snapping up to Chanyeol’s face. “Wait what?” he breathed out, softly, almost too softly. His forehead scrunched up minutely, adorably confused, the ㅅ of his lips becoming even more pronounced. He wanted to kiss him, Chanyeol realised. But what was this thing about Yixing?

“Wait, you think Yixing and I are together or something?”

“No, no, focus Chanyeol. Tell me about that other thing. The thing!”

“Yixing and I, really?” Chanyeol frowned.

“Are you trying to tell me that you were not _together together_ with Jinri? All this time?”

“Oh, did you—” Baekhyun’s face was distractingly close, Chanyeol could inhale him if he could. “Is that why you were acting so…”

Chanyeol didn’t know why but they were seated close enough that he could breathe in Baekhyun's exhales like a sustaining source. Baekhyun’s face was right in front of him, his hips angled so that his body was directly facing Chanyeol and easily accessible. Everything was right there, almost like it was being presented and all he had to do was just take.

He was being too obvious, he realised, because a reasonable amount of time had passed and he was still looking at Baekhyun’s lips, his neck, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. The moles there, how bare and untouched the skin looked. Baekhyun was quiet, tense enough for it to be felt in the taut vibrations of the air between them. Chanyeol had to look away. He could dream about it all he liked but this couldn’t happen. This was wrong on too many counts. Baekhyun was eighteen. Baekhyun was Jongdae’s nephew, and in a _uncle-friend_ sort of way, his own too. Baekhyun was kind of an unofficial tutling of his too. Chanyeol wasn’t going to let it happen, he wasn—

“ _Fuck,”_ Baekhyun cussed, a breathless gasp, eyes quickly dropping to his lap and looking a little like too many regrets for a night this early. His hands that had been curling into Chanyeol’s chest fell in an awkward heap at his sides, lips being bitten furiously. “I’m sorry,” Chanyeol huffed out, more exasperated with himself than Baekhyun leaning so close into his face that if Chanyeol hadn’t jolted up onto his feet, they would’ve kissed. Mostly annoyed because Jongdae’s voice was already nagging and accusing inside his head. “We can— I can’t do this.”

In retrospect, storming out of his own office might’ve been a little juvenile.

Baekhyun seemed to appear wherever he went. It shouldn’t have been possible, it wasn’t possible, Baekhyun wasn’t even from the same campus. The only reason he was there must’ve been because he was hallucinating. It was awful. He needed a drink. And he was having one presently, in the postgrad lounge and bar on the other end of South campus.

Perhaps he was drunk already, because the sign at the door had said postgrad lounge. The legend ‘No undergraduates allowed’ had been in bold as usual and it being a Friday afternoon, some of the lecturers from his department were here too, already on their third or fourth after-lunch drinks. There must’ve been some sort of event going on too because the lounge was exceptionally full this afternoon. At any rate, no undergraduates were allowed admission, so he was definitely drunk on his first glass, it seemed.

“Pssst,” Chanyeol called out to his bartender, swaying forward languidly and turning his head to the side so his eyes could fix on the two figures in the corner. The other two were looking back at him, whispering to each other and eyeing him curiously. Chanyeol clicked his tongue, slightly annoyed at how even in his drunken hallucinations, Baekhyun seemed to be decidedly within his reach lately. The other kid he was standing in the corner with, giggled mischievously, wrapping a strong arm around Baekhyun's waist and that was enough for Chanyeol to snap his head back to the bartender.

“What did you put in this?” Chanyeol eyed his drink suspiciously, pushing it forward against the counter as though he wanted nothing to do with it. “Uuh, whiskey? You said a double,” the bartender reminded, eyes narrowed curiously. “My throat burns,” Chanyeol supplied and got one of those, ‘are you fucking with me?’ scathing expressions in return. “Would you like something fruity instead?” The bartender was patient and friendly on most days but there was just too much of a crowd to deal with today. Chanyeol could understand. “Hey, do you see anything weird in the corner there by any chance? Right by the window?”

The bartender lazily turned his neck to the side, sighed slowly and nodded, then slipped away for a little while. He returned later with Chanyeol’s drink, something brighter that came in a taller glass with real fruit chunks. “I like this,” Chanyeol told him as he chewed on a fruit pulp and swallowed. His bartender opened his mouth slowly and Chanyeol cut him off with a request not to be told what the drink was called. Bartender dude nodded sagely and started wiping at the counter’s surface again.

“So,” Chanyeol started after a generous gulp. “Anything weird in the corner?”

“Other than the two undergrads humping each other in broad daylight while making out? No, nothing. Why?” Chanyeol snapped his neck so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Bartender dude laughed hard in his face, Chanyeol thought he’d probably choke on his own spittle. Chanyeol kind of wished he’d choke on his own spittle. “Not funny,” he groused.

“Ey, man, look. I don’t know what your deal is and I’m not one to judge. But just a kind reminder. This is a workplace bar. Don’t go doing anything stupid.” He nudged his chin forward, and Chanyeol followed the movement until his eyes zeroed in on Baekhyun, slowly advancing towards him from the other side of the lounge from where Chanyeol had seen him last. “Give me back the whiskey,” he croaked to the bartender, squirming in his seat at the dark gaze Baekhyun fixed on him as he made his way over.

“Locking your office is a bit extreme don’t you think?” It had only been one time, but the rest of the other times, the door had been merely closed not locked. It served as a deterrent, and unfortunately that applied across the board. His tutlings had been a little surprised about his abrupt shift in behaviour, but he’d found some other convenient means to ensure he’d still be approached for office hours. “Been busy lately, post-midterms season and all,” Chanyeol lied, gesturing aggressively to distract and hopefully convince, whatever worked. Baekhyun snorted, smiling small and measured.

“Well, I just came to let you know that I’m going to fail.”

“Two weeks, Baekhyun, I only missed two weeks of tuts. How?” Baekhyun shrugged, deciding he might as well take the vacant seat next to Chanyeol. There was a slight up curl to his mouth at Chanyeol’s obvious distress, almost like he’d meant to taunt and guilt him even though there was no way Chanyeol’s two week absence could be held responsible for the kid not applying himself diligently to his work. Even though Chanyeol tried his best to avail himself, Baekhyun had sent him voice notes loaded with confused panic more than practise questions over those two weeks.

“You weren’t there when I needed you,” Baekhyun accused, tone a little more serious now. Chanyeol sighed and made to stand. “Stop running from this, it’s silly. You look stupid and childish running away.”

“I’m not running,” Chanyeol sighed. He wasn’t running, not exactly. He thought he needed a little bit of time to think this through. It wasn’t as though they were in love, they weren’t. In a lot of ways they cared for each other, but only as a direct consequence of having been around each other so much and for so long. Chanyeol didn’t think Baekhyun really knew him, most of this, whatever this was, was likely hero worship. Although Chanyeol didn’t think there was much to worship about him, it was merely a template for these sorts of relationships. The ‘notice me _senpai’_ in the equation always had the older one on some sort of pedestal. And what could _senpai_ possibly wish to gain from this? Love?

Chanyeol found himself laughing derisively at himself. There was a sudden vulnerable sort of thing flashing through Baekhyun’s eyes, shoulders slumping defeatedly. “Shoot, I’m not— it’s not you. It’s me, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for that. You don’t want me, I get it.”

“No, I do —” He did and why? Because of the blind adoration he would surely receive from this? The sex? Wasn’t it always about the sex? The reason why he’d started to notice _Baekhyun_ in front of him and not just some kid, hadn’t that been because of the dreams? It didn’t seem like there was any reasonable justification for all this when all the overarching reasons why he was drawn to Baekhyun seemed so self-indulgent and greedy, vice after vice. “We should talk, but perhaps not here.”

“Your office maybe?” Baekhyun bit his bottom lip nervously, eyes roving wildly around the room until they fixed themselves on the other kid he’d been hanging around with earlier. It was almost impressive, how obvious the change in his body language was. Almost as though just by meeting eyes alone, the other boy had transferred a bit of courage and comfort to him. It came with a tightening of his own chest.

Chanyeol wasn’t some unnecessarily jealous and possessive old man. He was happy that Baekhyun was making friends outside of Jongdae’s circle of friends. It was important for anyone Baekhyun’s age to have friends their own age and maybe a revolving door of lovers within a reasonable five year age range. It was the full ‘university years’ experience everyone deserved. In his own time, Chanyeol had the full university experience and then some, hence the many fuck-ups.

It was a little unfair to want to stick himself at the decided centre of Baekhyun’s life knowing all this. To want to be the one Baekhyun would look at and instantly visibly relax. It was greedy and a little unfair that he was in a position where he knew better. Could easily tell why and how Baekhyun was probably making the biggest mistake of his life pursuing this, but still wanting it just as much. If not more.

Chanyeol probably just wanted the youth, having missed out on a good chunk of his own trying to play catch-up. There was a certain light, something untainted and bright on Baekhyun that was almost too addicting. It burnt bright from afar, blindingly so and Chanyeol couldn’t help but want to feel just how hot it could get at the very centre of it all. He was so far gone, inexcusably, and Chanyeol had so many regrets.

"My office,” he huffed out, incredulous.

“My office?” He was pacing a little, one hand aggressively rubbing at his forehead. Baekhyun reached out a hesitant hand to keep him in place, it burned through the fabric to connect to the skin of his side, branding him with singeing need.

“It’s a Friday,” Chanyeol reminded hesitantly, prying Baekhyun’s hand off of him and looking around him with shifty eyes. There was nothing in the university’s policy that was against this sort of interaction, not especially when Baekhyun wasn’t Chanyeol’s student in any direct manner. And even if he were, the most Chanyeol would be required to do was to report the nature of their relationship before pursuing it. There was really no need for all this, but it made sense in Chanyeol’s head for now, that he should be wary of their public interactions and the eyes around them.

“Okay,” Baekhyun chirped, already seeing a looming victory. “Heads up, I’m bringing some friends.”

It had only been an hour since he’d retired to his room, when Baekhyun slipped into Chanyeol’s bed.

Other than Jongdae and Sunyoung who had retired even earlier than him, everyone else was still downstairs judging by the sheer amount of noise coming from there.

Chanyeol couldn’t do it, the smallest of things kept setting him off. The way that other kid Jongin- who he’d assumed was Kyungsoo when he’d seen him pasted to Baekhyun’s side in the corner of the postgrad lounge earlier- draped himself around Baekhyun like it was a default setting. The way the real Kyungsoo, although perhaps a little warranted, kept glowering at him whenever Baekhyun would touch his knee or lean his head back on Chanyeol’s knees from where he was seated on the ground, almost directly in front of Chanyeol on the couch. It certainly didn’t help matters that the more Baekhyun drank, the more he’d seemed to burrow into the space between Chanyeol’s thighs. At some point in all of this, Chanyeol had been forced to tap out.

“Explain,” Chanyeol groaned, instinctively moving to the edge of his own bed, full defense mode activated. Baekhyun made a goofy sound as he grinned up at him, head already mostly covered inside Chanyeol’s duvet. He closed his eyes and quietly hummed. Baekhyun looked entirely too coherent for the drunk act he was trying to pull straight from his ass.

“It’s cold,” the kid bargained, scooting closer to Chanyeol on the bed and chuckling evilly when Chanyeol’s response to that was almost letting himself fall off the bed as he tried to get away. “And you’re a human furnace, so your bed was always going to be warmer.” He pouted indecently, moving a little closer. “My room’s always cold.” Because yes, before things had started to get a little weird, they were starting to call it Baekhyun’s room.

“It wouldn’t have to be if you’d just call your friends and go to bed together. Everybody wins that way actually, they’re making such a noise and I think Jongin has traumatized Minseok enough for one night.”

“I don’t know. It sorta kinda looks like Minseok’s not gonna want me sleeping in the other room with him and Jongin tonight,” Baekhyun countered, pulling Chanyeol away from the edge and scooting back a little to leave some respectable distance between them.

“You’re projecting just a little bit, maybe”

“Nope, pretty sure I left because Jongin was giving him a lap dance and maybe I’m a little envious.” Chanyeol was quiet for a while, mapping out Baekhyun’s face under the dim orange glow of the streets lights streaking into the room from the outside. His eyes were still closed, cheeks puffed out petulantly. He was so beautiful, skin soft and so young. Terribly young. And Chanyeol’s gut was already tight, arousal vibrating tautly in dizzying lines straight down to his groin.

Not tonight, at least. He couldn’t give in tonight of all nights.

“Stop thinking so loudly and just go to sleep,” Baekhyun sighed and promptly turned his back to him, leaving Chanyeol just about as confused as his dick.

That had been terribly anticlimactic. He’d expected to fend off some wildly hormonal eighteen year old from his more than happy to comply dick and not this. He’d expected so much worse and he was a little disappointed, he now realised. He tried to go to sleep with a cock half hard and it almost would’ve worked, if it wasn’t for the fact that Baekhyun, apparently, moaned in his sleep.

Jongdae was going to kill him, Chanyeol thought, beating his meat quietly, aiming for the shower drain.

He’d thought to just get it over and done with, but the silence had felt a little unnerving so he’d ended up naked and wet but warm under the showerhead. He didn’t know why Jongdae hadn’t budged into his room and exposed him already, but just in case, Chanyeol used his most efficient strokes. He needed to be quick and effective. And quiet, some clouded part of his mind cautioned him. Everything was just so hard. His life. His dick. Moaning quietly as he came…

Earlier, he’d made sure to wait until he could hear Baekhyun breathing evenly beside him before quietly slinking out of bed and into the bathroom. But that last groan had vibrated so hard in his chest that his ears were still ringing with white noise. There was honestly no telling how much noise he’d been making.

Chanyeol clenched his teeth as he groaned some more, stroking softly just below the head with one hand in order to squeeze out any residual come. His other head was a rush of overly recycled dream version Baekhyun’s superimposed onto the real thing, probably still moaning like he was getting fucked slow and nice as he slept inside Chanyeol’s bed in the next room.

It hadn’t even been 10 minutes since returning from his impromptu shower when Baekhyun’s body rolled itself onto Chanyeol’s side, arm flinging itself over Chanyeol’s ribs, one leg coming up over his hips to pin him down. This was stupid, he could tell that Baekhyun was awake. He could tell that Baekhyun knew he was aware of him being fully awake. But for some funny reason, Chanyeol held his breath and didn’t say a word as he desperately counted down numbers inside his head.

For a little while there was nothing, and a little after that, a fragmented thought registered. He was being rolled onto his back, his body nothing but pliant. When he opened his eyes to look, Baekhyun was straddling his chest, smiling prettily down at him. Chanyeol must’ve said something, because Baekhyun said something else back. They were talking but his thoughts couldn’t register much outside of the heat on his chest, the comfortable weight pressing him down and Baekhyun’s pretty fingers rubbing nonsense lines into his shoulders.

He noticed that Baekhyun was down to just a pair of panties when he started to move back along Chanyeol’s torso, hovering a little over his crotch. It was the weirdest, hottest thing, Baekhyun in panties that looked like they were somehow aiming for the granny panty life but failed short after only reaching full leg. They had froot loops printed on them, a pretty contrast of colours that looked incredible against Baekhyun’s skin. He noticed then that he was naked too, pyjamas pulled down to his ankles and leaving his cock out to bob freely where it lay on his stomach. It pulsed and leaked, which delighted Baekhyun greatly if the awed little giggle that shot out of his mouth was anything to go by.

Baekhyun said something, but Chanyeol didn’t remember what it was in the next moment. His mind felt incredibly hazy, but it must’ve had something to do with this next thing he was doing because Chanyeol’s head was nodding enthusiastically, falling back onto the pillow with an affected groan. Baekhyun slipped the panties to the side, took Chanyeol’s cock into his palm and pushed it inside. He wiggled a little on top of Chanyeol to adjust them both, cocks aligning at an awkward angle at first. With a bit of hard work and some imagination, Chanyeol’s cock was soon laying flat against Baekhyun’s stomach, pressed in snugly against his own.

Both of them moaned when Baekhyun moved his hips, beginning to grind slow and steady. It was too much, almost entirely too wet and Chanyeol hadn’t even noticed Baekhyun slicking them up. He groaned, or was that Baekhyun? Chanyeol couldn’t concentrate, not with Jongdae’s voice coming into his ears from the guest room downstairs, sounding a little too close for comfort.

Abruptly, he jerked forward.

He meant to separate them, but his arousal peaked incredibly and his hips began to snap on their own until he was nothing but a twitching wet mess, clinging onto Baekhyun’s hips for life.

The next thought that registered in his mind was that he was wet, uncomfortably. He opened his eyes slowly, hips trying and failing to shift away from the slick mess inside his pyjamas. He found that he couldn’t move much where he was, although his hips were still sort of twitching softly on a come down. Baekhyun moaned in his arms, pressing his ass back into him and… wait… that was not right. Chanyeol opened his eyes again, realising only now that they’d somehow fluttered shut while he was feeling intensely all the sensations flushing down his nervous system. He wiggled a leg, feeling it dead where it was clutched in between two of Baekhyun’s.

The kid was asleep, back pressed into Chanyeol’s chest as he moaned needily. Chanyeol looked down and yeah, no, those weren’t froot loops panties at all. This was real life Baekhyun, backing up into Chanyeol’s crotch and jostling his rapidly softening and regrettably twitchy cock. It took him a minute to understand the implications of this moment but when it finally clicked inside his head, Chanyeol flinched so far back that he ended up tumbling to the floor, covers dripping down with him.

After a moment, Chanyeol managed to extract himself from the tangle of sheets and bed covers he was in, lifting himself up to make sure that Baekhyun was still sleeping. He was.

Baekhyun whined in his sleep at the sudden loss of warmth but otherwise did not stir.

“I’m going to die,” Chanyeol observed to himself as he gently threw the bed covers over Baekhyun’s frame, eyes squinting to see if he hadn’t made a mess on Baekhyun’s backside. It was a little ridiculous because even though it felt incredibly uncomfortable inside his pyjamas, his crotch still looked pretty much dry.

Limping awkwardly to the bathroom, he tried to erase from his thoughts the image of Baekhyun moaning unhappily and rolling himself over to Chanyeol’s side of the bed in search of warmth.

But there was a sudden stirring in his chest, some kind of weird tightening at the sight of Baekhyun breathing softly in his bed.

Chanyeol internally whined to himself, thinking, against all better judgement, that he could really get used to this.

Sheree didn’t come to the next three tut sessions scheduled for their group. Chanyeol noticed and told himself to look into it, but for some reason, he never got around to it.

Yixing regarded him for a minute too long, head slightly tilted questioningly at Baekhyun’s retreating figure.

Yixing didn’t ask and so, Chanyeol didn’t volunteer any answers.

“You’re acting weird,” Yixing observed.

“I think I have a roommate. We haven’t talked about it officially, but it’s Wednesday and he hasn’t left my place since Friday and I don’t really mind, you know? He does that a lot, but then the timing is just so wrong and I can feel myself cracking under the pressure and, and everything is just so severely fucked. Jongdae’s going to kill me and I probably deserve it.”

“Wow,” Yixing gaped, awkwardly adjusting his sling bag. “That’s a lot.”

Chanyeol huffed out an exasperated laugh.

“What do you you think I should do? What if, like, I moved out? Hey, what if I moved in with you for the rest of the semester? Your apartment’s big?”

“My apartment has no guest rooms.”

“Come on, what about your son’s room, huh? I could sleep there?”

“Or you could just talk to the kid and work out all that tension somehow?”

“You have a nice couch, right. I could sleep on the couch. Please let me sleep on your couch for about week or so while I find alternative accommodation somewhere so far from campus it’s probably not even on the shuttle route,” Chanyeol pleaded. He would kneel if Yixing told him to, if that would get him to agree.

Sleeping with Baekhyun one room down from his was like a slow torture. The dreams were getting progressively out of control and Baekhyun was slowly pushing his buttons, getting testy with Chanyeol’s limits like it was some sort of game. Last night he’d crawled into Chanyeol’s bed, draping himself along Chanyeol’s back as though they had a sort of arrangement already going. Chanyeol had stayed frozen, afraid that if he were to so much as open his mouth to protest, something like desire would come tumbling right out.

Baekhyun felt good to wake up to in the morning. That face, his body which fit so incredibly well in Chanyeol’s arms, back glued to Chanyeol’s chest. Chanyeol was a little addicted, even without taking, Chanyeol was addicted.

Baekhyun was a bad habit.

It wasn’t even like he still had a viable excuse for staying at Chanyeol’s when the misunderstanding with Kyungsoo was sorted already. Baekhyun was being difficult just because he could get away with it. And Chanyeol wasn’t entirely helpless underneath all that passive attitude. He was, perhaps, a little too eager to see Baekhyun get away with it too.

“I’m tired,” Yixing yawned, gesturing for Chanyeol to get up so they could get going already. “Long day, not enough sleep or coffee. Let’s go.”

“Fine, If you won’t let me sleep on your couch I’ll just sleep here then,” Chanyeol threatened, stretching his legs onto one corner of his desk, bottom lip jutting out petulantly.

“Okay but, drive me home first. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

“Baekhyun has the keys, he went down already so just give him your address and he’ll get you there.” Yixing sighed, closing the door behind him and coming to sit on one of the chairs on the other side of the desk from Chanyeol. He folded his arms above the desk and yawned, then supporting his chin on one palm, he said, “Okay, so, you like a first year. Not your student per se but one of the students at the university you work at. And said student is also your friend’s nephew, I get it. I get why you’re running.”

“I’m not running.”

“But you absolutely can’t sleep on my couch and I’m not letting you sleep in my son’s room either. You could sleep here but I’m willing to tip off campus security if you do so and trust me, you really don’t want them cracking down on your ass.”

“You sure are loyal,” Chanyeol grumbled.

“What are the cons?”

“Huh?”

“Being with the kid, fucking the kid, whatever it is you want from the kid...what are the cons?”

He thought about it, really thought about it. Somehow, evoking Jongdae’s name seemed a little juvenile. Baekhyun was young, but it wasn’t like the age gap was incredibly gross or concerning. He wasn’t his student either and university policy was a little progressive though still appropriately cautious. There wasn’t really too many cons on his list, if he were being honest with himself. He was scared, yes. But the more he thought about it, the more it all started to look like he was just being a little too dramatic for absolutely nothing.

“Uh,” Chanyeol began, mouth closing for good right after.

“Take me home, I need to sleep. And please take yourself and the kid home too. Sleep it off or talk it out, just make sure you go home.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol whined, atypical of their usual interactions. Yixing huffed out an incredulous laugh at him as he made to stand, stretching his limbs while Chanyeol gathered up his stuff.

“Kyungsoo said to tell you thanks for lunch,” Baekhyun was saying, eyes intent on where Chanyeol was plating up their food. “Says I should bring more next time. My friends like your cooking so much I almost always end up getting something from the cafeteria because they refuse to share.” Chanyeol snorted, gesturing for the kid to follow him out to the living room. “I’m gonna start making you pay for the lunches I pack for you if you insist on not eating them.”

Baekhyun trailed behind him, uncharacteristically quiet. When they got to the living room, the kid took the offered plate, sitting himself on top of a cushion in front of the couch. “When are we getting a TV for the living room?”

Chanyeol shrugged. He’d never thought he needed one, so he’d never considered buying it. “You and Kyungsoo are close.”

“You’ve known this,” Baekhyun deadpanned. Chanyeol nodded mutely. He knew what he wanted to say but didn’t know how exactly to proceed. “I think,” Baekhyun started for him, looking back at Chanyeol from the corner of his eye, gauging him out.

“My bed is getting more action than me at this point, you know? Jongin’s probably more invested in me staying here with you than either one of us.” Baekhyun was leading him somewhere, the whole thing smelling too much like bait. Chanyeol latched on with everything he had.

“Jongin likes Kyungsoo,” the kid explained.

“So the lapdance thing with Minseok on Friday?”

“Oh, Jongin’s like that with everyone. I guess Kyungsoo’s a little like that with me too…” he trailed off, a distant tone in his voice. Chanyeol cleared his throat, sifting through the barrage of information for one thing to pursue. “You like him or something?”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, Kyungsoo? Both?” Baekhyun simpered, shaking his head a little. He bit his lip, and then, he was leaning his head back on Chanyeol’s knee. Neck carefully tipped back so that he was looking up at him now, bangs falling sideways off his forehead. There was this daring look in his eyes, it reached into Chanyeol’s body somehow, tugging at something equally daring in his own soul. “Actually, a little, maybe? I don’t know. It’s a little fun messing around with them and all but I don’t know. I kind of want more I guess.”

Chanyeol’s food went into the wrong pipe and he almost died, hacking up a lung.

When it no longer looked like a surprise coughing fit might just catch him mid sentence, Chanyeol set his plate aside, deciding to just fuck it and go in, hard. “You and Kyungsoo… Jongin, you’re fucking of something?” The kid nodded, the glint in his eyes daring him to push some more. “All three of you?” Another nod, and a little smile this time, guarded and almost proud like. Sort of.

“How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Okay,” Chanyeol thought about it. It didn’t really matter, no.

Not knowing what to say after this, he said nothing.

Visibly frustrated, Baekhyun put his plate on the coffee table and got up. Chanyeol’s heart thudded quietly inside his chest, anticipating something. Anything.

Baekhyun did nothing. Just quietly took his and Chanyeol’s plate to the kitchen like they hadn’t just been talking or goading each other on. He didn’t return until about fifteen minutes later. This time, something looked different in his eyes. Chanyeol didn’t get enough time to examine what exactly it was because suddenly he had a lap full of Baekhyun he wasn’t as yet appropriately equipped to deal with.

“Stop messing with my head and just tell me you don’t want me already,” Baekhyun whined, face leaning in, words falling like drops of humid air onto Chanyeol’s lips. “Stop encouraging me.”

His hands came up to Chanyeol’s face, thumbs sliding back and forth on the tight skin of his jaw until one decided to be bolder, sliding up to Chanyeol’s lips and tugging them apart softly. “You pack lunches for me, let me sleep in your bed, but you won’t do anything. I can’t tell if you’re just being nice or you want this. It’s ridiculous you know?”

“I know,” Chanyeol rasped out.

“Why won’t you do anything?”

“I’m not trying to mess with your head,” Chanyeol heard himself say, feeling his hands sliding up Baekhyun’s thighs, up his waist to rest on the sides of his ribcage. He felt Baekhyun’s breath catch and pressed him in closer so that he was almost sitting on top of his crotch.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Baekhyun whispered thumping his forehead against Chanyeol’s. “How long?” The kid laughed, pressing in closer. Chanyeol pulled him in, lifting himself off the couch a little in order to slump his body further backwards, earning them more room to slide more parts against each other. “Don’t ask Jongdae, he’ll kill you if you remind him.”

“Jongdae knows you like me?” Alarmed, Chanyeol fidgeted, almost as though he was trying to get away now, second guessing the hell out of himself. “I think the whole family knows about my little crush on you. It’s been around for a scary long while. Mom’s probably gotten over it but she’d die of shock if she knew I was in your lap right now.”

“Okay, this is such a fucking bad idea, how did you even get in my lap. How are you still in my lap,” Chanyeol panicked minutely, words humid against Baekhyun’s neck. Baekhyun shushed him with a pointer finger on his lips, hips rolling forward to grind their crotches together. His neck was right there, right in front of Chanyeol’s lips. Pretty and a little irate, smelling like a really bad decision that was sure to taste stupidly good.

So, Chanyeol did what his tongue was throbbing to do. Opening his mouth, he let it dart out, licking a wet hot stripe along the length of Baekhyun’s tensed neck. Baekhyun shuddered in his lap, hips grinding roughly with his own. He nipped at a thick patch of skin and sucked it into his mouth, feeling the vibration of Baekhyun’s groan tightly dancing up his throat.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun gasped, face turning to meet Chanyeol’s, lips crashing into each other soft and incessant, although unrushed. It was everything a contained universe bursting with expanding galaxies probably felt like. Nothing like Chanyeol had ever imagined and also somehow everything like his dreams.

They kissed for a suspended eternity, slow, wet and hungry.

He’d been planning on staying on campus for as long as he could that Friday afternoon, but Chanyeol found himself being rushed out of the building by Baekhyun and his two guard dogs. Whenever he tried asking, he only got shouted at so Chanyeol did as he was told, packing his stuff up as quickly as he could while Baekhyun stress paced the width of his office.

In the car, Baekhyun’s hand tapped continuously at his knee as it bounced, willing the car to go faster. He had his phone clutched in his other hand, periodically checking the screen for any new message notifications.

“Sunyoung is working night shift,” Kyungsoo supplied. It took a while for Chanyeol to understand the implications, but as soon as he did, his foot pressed down on the fuel harder.

“Sunyoung knows?” Baekhyun nodded. Chanyeol was annoyed, unfairly. He hadn’t expected Baekhyun to not tell anyone. But at most, Chanyeol had thought that only his friends would know. Certainly not anyone in Jongdae’s circle of friends and especially not his girlfriend. What was the kid even thinking?

It wasn’t as though he was planning on hiding this indefinitely. Chanyeol had a plan going, poorly thought out maybe but it was workable. Telling Jongdae about this didn’t make sense when he himself wasn’t even sure what _this_ was. He’d been hoping to figure that one out soon, preferably together with Baekhyun. They hadn’t exactly sat down and talked about what they wanted. Chanyeol didn’t remember them talking anything productive since that night when all this had started. Admittedly, it was a little unhealthy, but Chanyeol wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear Baekhyun’s answer anymore.

The dreams had only been right about one thing, Baekhyun was a dream to bed. Chanyeol hadn’t expected Baekhyun to be the kind of lover who liked to take control. He hadn’t expected that he’d be the one to just lay there and take it all, moving pliantly as and when he was rearranged, eagerly offering himself up to another’s pleasure. It had been unexpected, but it was also everything Chanyeol hadn’t known he’d needed. And that was the problem. Chanyeol needed it so badly he didn’t think he’d be able to breathe if he had to give it up. Being with Baekhyun like this had left him so open and vulnerable that the idea of knowing what Baekhyun sought to obtain from him was equally frightening as not knowing.

He wanted Baekhyun to need him. They hadn’t been intimate together for a week and Chanyeol was already starting to feel like he wanted to keep this for himself for a little bit of forever. Baekhyun had to need him just as much as Chanyeol needed him now. And Chanyeol didn’t think he was brave enough to ask. Especially not after the way Baekhyun had painted his relationship with Kyungsoo and Jongin. Chanyeol didn’t know what _more_ was and that scared him. More could’ve been anything. Something Baekhyun could have for himself, or something that wouldn’t tie him down should he pursue it.

And the more he stole glances at Baekhyun, anxious and wanting to get home as fast as he could before Jongdae got there. Before Jongdae could get there and start seeing too many significant traces of his nephew’s sustained presence scattered all across Chanyeol’s house. The more it filled Chanyeol with a debilitating fright, like maybe, perhaps… Baekhyun didn’t want Jongdae to know because then that would solidify whatever _this_ was in everyone’s eyes. Creating expectations he wasn’t willing to follow through with, maybe, just a thought. A very dark and debilitating thought.

“A good thing too, imagine what could’ve happened if you hadn’t told her… who would’ve given you a heads up then, mm? I’ll be expecting gratitude in the form of fried chicken and frozen yoghurt thank you.” So, it had been Jongin’s idea to tell Sunyoung then? Chanyeol could understand the logic. Baekhyun was too young and had no business messing around with grown men his uncle’s age. An unbiased older third party's opinion was more than necessary. But right now, all that Chanyeol could feel was a misguided sense of betrayal. And something like envy, for wanting to have the same kind of influence on Baekhyun’s decision making process. It was selfish, and Chanyeol was an old creep who wanted some kid’s life to revolve around him. Pathetic.

“Can you go faster? Please go faster.” Chanyeol didn’t have to as they were already nearing the last turn they had to take before they’d be in his street. But for whatever the fuck it was worth, Chanyeol made a show of doing so.

Minseok’s car was already parked in front of his house when they got there. Which was bad because his friends had a spare key to his house, in case of emergencies. Whenever Sunyoung wasn’t around, Jongdae would forego sleeping at Chanyeol’s because she’d always come pick him up after her shift. It was slim and highly improbable but there was a chance that Jongdae would’ve gone upstairs with Minseok and depending on just how bored the two were, some snooping may have been involved.

At any rate, they wouldn’t have had to snoop around to see Baekhyun’s dirty laundry strewn all over the guest room upstairs, or his shampoo and toothbrush inside the bathroom. Chanyeol had a duty to tell Jongdae if Baekhyun was sleeping over at his house and lately, he’d been foregoing it out of guilt and well, reasons...

“You run upstairs, I’ll distract Jongdae,” Jongin volunteered and before Kyungsoo could pull him back, the kid was already bursting through the front door, headed for the living room where Jongdae and Minseok’s voices could be heard.

“Keep an eye on Minseok,” Baekhyun instructed, Chanyeol couldn't tell whether it was meant for him or Kyungsoo, but it held the same authoritative tone Baekhyun used with him in bed. For a moment, he felt heady and displaced, not quite sure what he was doing in the foyer or where he was meant to be. But, Kyungsoo nudged him forward and he was soon following Jongin to the living room.

They got there just as Minseok was starting to peel away a smug toothed Jongin from Jongdae’s lap. Jongdae remained frozen where he sat, mouth gaping like a goldfish, not sure what the fuck had just happened or why. There was a dark look on Minseok’s face and it took a while for Chanyeol to realise who it was meant for.

“No,” Minseok asserted. “I didn’t wait quietly by you all this while for some kid to come in and take away all your firsts.” Jongin chuckled delightedly, pretending he was trying to get back onto Jongdae’s lap again just to rile Minseok up. Jongdae looked at Minseok, face a little too red, mouth opening and closing again. Chanyeol was a little awed at the exasperated look on Minseok’s face, which almost seemed to say, ‘what’re you acting so surprised for, did you really think…?’

The night ahead of them was going to be very long.

It was safe to assume that neither Minseok nor Jongdae had seen any significant traces of Baekhyun around Chanyeol’s house, because neither of them had brought it up. Chanyeol would’ve loved to focus on Jongdae and Minseok’s obvious discomfort with each other the entire evening but no matter what he did or thought, his eye kept seeking out Baekhyun. The kid had ignored him for the most part, sandwiched in between his two friends the entire time.

Some pathetic and needy part of him kept him wondering whether it hadn’t been a mere ‘confuse the enemy’ tactic but rather, Baekhyun’s true intent. It was a side to himself he’d never been acquainted with before. Chanyeol wondered whether it was just the kind of desperation bred out of a fear of being too old and unloveable, generally. It could’ve also easily been a symptom of loving too hard and too fast, but what did Chanyeol know? Certainly nothing about love. He’d never had one of those before.

Why was he even thinking along those line for? It had only been a week. Some university kid who bunked lectures and dropped modules like a statement had fucked him sloppy five or twenty times and Chanyeol was now filled with this indescribable urge to merge and all these gross intense possessive thoughts.

Chanyeol felt incredibly sick.

He excused himself early, told everyone he wasn’t feeling too well. They all raised their heads in concern except for Baekhyun. It hurt more than what was warranted. Chanyeol made excuses for the kid as he went through his bedtime routine. But whenever his mind went quiet, his eyes would strain towards the door. Hoping, quietly, stupidly, that some kid with a pocket full of obnoxious jokes would poke his head through Chanyeol’s door and crack one to make him feel better.

He fell asleep long after Jongdae and Minseok made their way to the guest room upstairs, uncoordinated bodies slamming against walls, hysterical laughter trailing their path.

He was expecting too much for someone too scared to know what _this_ was, but up until his last registered thought, Chanyeol hoped that Baekhyun would at least sneak his way upstairs and kiss him goodnight.

The back of his thighs were being straddled and the clock on his bedside table read 3:07am. There was a stiff cock being pressed against his ass, a gruff voice in his ear telling him he’d been missed. Chanyeol’s heart ached and all he wanted to do was turn over and look into Baekhyun’s eyes and tell him how Chanyeol never wanted to go through that again. A world in which Baekhyun didn’t acknowledge his existence wasn’t something he ever want to do over and Chanyeol just wanted the kid so much. Not just in his bed, behind closed doors where no one would know. He wanted him, needed to know he had him in open spaces too. In front of Baekhyun’s family and in front of all of their friends.

Chanyeol’s mouth was moving as Baekhyun’s fingers moved inside him, but there was no telling if what he was thinking was what actually came out. For both their sakes, his own sanity especially, he hoped not. Dream version Baekhyun or otherwise, Chanyeol wasn’t ready to make such bold declarations out loud.

It must’ve been just in his head though because Baekhyun was gruffing out nasty things in his ear, hips rolling fluidly against his back. Baekhyun had a way with dirty words. It made Chanyeol’s dick throb where it was pasted against his stomach, rod straight as it leaked onto the sheets.

Chanyeol was full and then he was not, Baekhyun spilling aggressively onto the small of his back. He heard himself moan out needily, and felt more than heard, Baekhyun chuckle delightedly against the cleft of his ass. There was a tongue lathering up wet hot stripes in between his cheeks in no time, Baekhyun’s thighs spreading out his own some more. Chanyeol arched his back, lifting his ass up and out, shuddering when Baekhyun hummed right into his hole.

It was too much and nearly not enough. And the great thing about being fucked by a man so young was definitely the stamina. Because even though Baekhyun had reached a peak not so long ago, Chanyeol was soon being laid out onto his back, knees pressed up to his chest as Baekhyun sat his cock so deep inside him again that Chanyeol’s head became awash with nothing but white noise.

His technique wasn’t always perfect, but Baekhyun’s stamina. God, his stamina.

They rushed themselves to an end when a pair of birds started to sing ceaselessly in the tree outside Chanyeol’s window. When he looked up, the sky was almost fully bright, the clock on his bedside table reading 5:45am. Chanyeol layed a pillow behind Baekhyun's head and urged him down gently before sitting on his dick and riding him all the way home. It didn’t take much, their bodies already spent and when they were done, neither of them had the will or strength to do anything beyond rolling onto their sides and into each other, swiftly clocking out.

“Baekhyun, didn’t you have some vintage anime screening thing to go to this morning?” Jongdae was incredibly loud and lacked immensely when it came to boundaries. He knew that Chanyeol didn’t like being woken up so early in the morning and yet here he was, yelling in Chanyeol’s ear about Baekhyun’s friends having already taken the 10:15 Saturday shuttle back to campus. Chanyeol’s body was sore, he’d hardly slept last night. He didn’t need this kind of treatment, not in his own home.

“Come sit on this one Minseok, maybe that’ll work,” Jongdae suggested, weight lifting off of the bed to be replaced soon after. Minseok sat right on top of Chanyeol’s side. Chanyeol was going to do nothing but complain and pointedly not cook today, because wow, the disrespect. In fact, any minute now he was going to start yelling, but another voice beat him to it.

Giggling evilly, Minseok fell into the space that was created when the owner of the other voice started whining, taking with him the warmth he’d been giving Chanyeol.

It was almost too hard to concentrate long enough to realise why this whole situation was a problem, with Minseok cackling in his ear like this. But when Jongdae lifted off the covers from his shoulders, one foot dipping onto the bed and said, “Long night huh,” Chanyeol’s mind jogged itself back up to speed.

Baekhyun’s friends had cleared already and Baekhyun was still here, in Chanyeol’s bed, naked and messy from earlier this morning. Jongdae and Minseok were also here, on Chanyeol’s bed.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun’s voice cried from the other side of the bed, alert and very much aware of the situation they’d found themselves in all of a sudden.

“Yeah,” Minseok agreed, “sounds just about right.”

“I can explain,” Chanyeol rushed out to say.

Rounding the bed, Minseok grinned widely, hand outstretched towards Jongdae. Jongdae grumbled as he retrieved his wallet from his pocket, shoving it against Minseok’s chest.

“First of all, we need to establish some boundaries.”

“What?”

“You’re loud, Chanyeol,” Jongdae complained, frowning in distaste. “You’re not allowed to touch him when I’m in the same house, that’s just nasty. I’m your uncle and he’s my friend, I deserve some respect,” he sermonized, pointing an accusing finger at Baekhyun.

“But you’re always here,” Baekhyun complained, huffing out adorably. It was strange, they were screaming at each other but for none of the reasons Chanyeol had initially thought they’d be at each other’s throats for.

“I warned you,” Jongdae grinned, starting to take photos of them in bed together. “Just in case I need some blackmail material later,” he explained, snapping away at different angles. “I’m sure your mom will have a lot of colourful things to say about these.”

Chanyeol was a little dazed, zoning out completely as Baekhyun began to chase Jongdae around the room, spewing empty threats. Minseok climbed to the relative safety of the bed and quietly inspected Jongdae’s wallet, happily pocketing an ID photocard from when Jongdae had been seventeen.

Jongdae had caught them in bed together and had done nothing. At the very least Chanyeol would’ve thought he’d be concerned about what Chanyeol’s intentions were. If the roles were to be reversed, Chanyeol would be concerned about what a thirty two year old man intended to gain from fraternizing with an eighteen year old in such a fashion. In fact, now that he was thinking it, Chanyeol was starting to feel more of that fright again. He still didn’t know what he and Baekhyun were doing. He knew what he wanted from Baekhyun, knew what he saw in him and why but what exactly did Baekhyun see in him? What did Baekhyun even want from him when he could easily have all the fun with people his own age?

“Okay, stop. Everyone out.” Jongdae came to an abrupt stop, almost hitting his hip against the open door to the bathroom. Minseok raised his eyes almost kittenishly from where he was counting bills, blinking up at him blankly. Louder this time, Chanyeol roared, “Out, now.”

Grumbling out colourful choice words under his breath, Minseok rolled himself off the bed, headed straight for the door. Jongdae hesitated for a second and in the next, Baekhyun was dragging him out by the elbow.

“Where are you going?” Chanyeol was exasperated and the more Baekhyun’s confused eyes blinked back at him, the more irritated he got. “Uh,” Baekhyun said, dropping Jongdae’s elbow to wave at the door. “Out?”

“Not you, them. We need to talk.” Baekhyun gulped. “I’ll be timing you,” Jongdae warned, “If I hear anything funny or if you take too long I swear I’m sending her these.”

The door slammed loudly behind him, Chanyeol having gotten up from the bed to make sure everything went ahead speedily.

“Sit,” he told Baekhyun, not meeting his eyes. Now that they were alone, he was beginning to think he’d perhaps overestimated himself. What if Baekhyun didn’t want him the way Chanyeol needed? It would be embarrassing, for one. Minseok and Jongdae would probably have a field day.

“I’m just gonna go straight into it, okay? I’m not just a body to fuck. I mean, it’s cool, I can be that for you if that’s what you want right now, but I don’t think I can do it for too long. That’s not what I want from you and _shoot_ , I sound so needy, don’t I?” Baekhyun stood up from the edge of the bed where he’d been sitting, smiling to himself smugly. “Just a little, but yeah.”

“I’m a mess,” Chanyeol muttered, moving back without realising it. Baekhyun kept advancing.

When his back hit the wall, he slumped against it, allowing his body to slide down until he was sitting on the floor. “I’m going to die,” he said when Baekhyun rearranged him so that he could deposit himself into Chanyeol’s lap. “You’re being dramatic, it’s a little funny right now, so don’t expect me to tell you to stop.”

“Jongdae’s going to propose, did he tell you?”

“Let me guess, you’re starting to feel the pressure? You’re old and you don’t want to grow old alone or something? I think I get it,” Baekhyun said, fingers curling around Chanyeol’s neck, digging into his scalp soothingly. The position was a little uncomfortable but Baekhyun’s weight on top of him felt good, felt right. “I’m not trying to force you into something you’re not ready for, but I don't think I can do this unless it’s crystal clear what we both want from each other.”

Baekhyun nodded, “Sounds reasonable.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” the kid parroted and there was that frustration again, coming at him full force. He tried to dislodge Baekhyun from his lap, making to get up. The kid kept him there, squirming in position.

“I think I’ve always been in love with you, well, maybe not before puberty but you’ve always been a sore constant.” Chanyeol gasped softly in response. He probably looked funny too, because Baekhyun was chuckling gently in his face, then hiding behind his shoulder, face thudding softly against the wall behind them.

“And I’m not promising that this will last until forever because like you looove to remind me, I’m only eighteen. What I like now will probably change two years from now or next month.” Baekhyun shrugged. He was being far too casual about this, Chanyeol didn’t like his own words being used against him.

“And the sex is incredible, there’s a good chance I’m just here for the sex. I’ve never had a serious relationship so it’s a pretty good chance.” Chanyeol groaned, trying to dislodge Baekhyun from his lap once more and failing. It wasn’t as though he was using all of his strength. Maybe letting Baekhyun use and hurt him would feel just as good too.

“I’m trying to say that I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, but I’m not willing to make any promises. There’s a good chance I’m in love with the idea of who you are and all this might fizzle out when we start getting into the real thing. But I care about you.”

“It’s not enough,” Chanyeol finally said. He didn’t have a clear idea of what Baekhyun was offering but it wasn’t enough. Chanyeol wanted everything, he wanted it promised and set in stone. He was ready to go curtain and linen shopping together tomorrow honestly. It was a little silly and rushed, but he wasn’t about to fight his own emotions, however unreasonable.

“I know, Baekhyun said. But that’s all I’m confident that I’ll be able to give. One week at a time. No promises.”

He kissed him slow and languid. Chanyeol responded fast and aggressively, nipping at Baekhyun’s lips almost punishingly. He was being ridiculous and wildly unreasonable, but Chanyeol wanted more. He wanted forever even though presently, he didn’t think he could quantify that into something measurable or felt. Didn’t even think he’d know what that looked like if it hit him in the face. He was dreaming big, vaguely, all clouds and roses inside his head. He felt greedy and unsatisfied, even though they hadn’t even started. It was mildly frustrating.

“One week at a time?” Baekhyun frowned at him, forehead furrowed cutely. Chanyeol was beginning to feel himself conceding. “I’m not willing to accept that if it’s just an excuse for you to hold back.”

“Did it seem like I was holding back anything all this while?” Baekhyun rested his forehead against his, speaking against Chanyeol’s parted lips. His hands rubbed along Chanyeol’s sides, squeezing tightly at the waist.

“No,” Chanyeol breathed out, reaching forward to prod his tongue into Baekhyun’s mouth. “I didn’t think you’d be such a baby about all this,” Baekhyun chuckled into the kiss. “It’s nice to be wanted this badly by you, Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, well, screw you for not wanting me just as much.”

“I want you plenty,” Baekhyun groused, offended, nipping at him. He pulled back, lifting himself up whilst frowning down at Chanyeol. “All I said was not to make any grand promises. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.”

Chanyeol simpered when Baekhyun stretched out a hand for him to take. “Okay,” he conceded, wrapping his arms around the kid, head coming to rest on Baekhyun's shoulder. It wasn't everything, it wasn’t as reassuring as he might’ve wanted it to be. It was rational and rationed out logically, reasonably. One week at a time, Baekhyun would be here, right in front of him, with his obnoxious jokes and too loud laughter. In his bed, on his couch and sometimes in his office. It wasn’t dreamy, but it was realistic, all things considered. It was okay.

“Okay,” Baekhyun agreed, smiling against the crown of Chanyeol’s head, holding him tighter.


End file.
